Typical Mutant
by TheCatWithTheHat
Summary: Who was the girl who Max rescued from the Institute? Why was she there? Why did she REALLY leave the flock? And most importantly, what happened to her? Rated T cause I'm paranoid. REVIEW! Flames accepted::My very first baby is finally complete.../sniff
1. Chapter 1

**A/N So this is my first Fanfic, sorry if I mess up. Sorry about the no Fax, but…it's not about Max. Or Fang. R&R, please! Flames are permitted, please try to avoid them though.**

**Okay so this is basically about that girl who Max saved from the Institute. If no one reviews I will not update. It's not just for me. I don't want to be taking up space with something no one's going to read.**

**Also, I've tried to keep it as accurate to The Angel Experiment as possible, tell me if I screw up.**

**Kisses,**

**maia schne**

Chapter One (Holly POV)

"Subject Seventeen, please come in for your testing."

Ms. Sylvester opened the door to my dog crate. I only knew her by her nametag, which said MARGARET SYLVESTER in neat doctor writing. Or should I say whitecoat?

I unfolded my legs with a sigh. Why do they keep fooling themselves, I wondered. Testing was definitely not the right word for it. _Illegal experimentation_ was more like it. I mean, they didn't even bother to give me a dog bed to protect my legs from the harsh metal bars of the cage. If it weren't for the thin layer of hospital gown covering me, my legs would look like a chessboard.

I stepped out of the crate and Ms. Sylvester grabbed my wrist. I had bruises there from the amount of times she'd done this – at least once a day for the past year – and one time she'd even broken it. The other whitecoats had _not_ been happy.

Ms. Sylvester's frizzy red hair seemed to glow in the under the strangely bright lights in the underground lab. Her bejeweled, horn-rimmed glasses, together with her sharp-nosed profile, gave her the impression of a hawk circling its prey. At least to me. It wasn't like Monkeyman ever noticed. He was too busy sleeping in the crate above mine and drooling through the bars of his cage and into my hair.

We reached room 12A. Darn, that was one of my least favorite tests.

Ms. Sylvester flashed her ID at the scanner next to the door. Then she tapped the code on the keypad: 43845. (She thinks I don't know it, or that I don't know my numbers. Ha! – the things you learn from exposure.) Finally she spoke into a tiny microphone that extended out to her from the wall. "Margaret Linda Sylvester," she announced, and then opened the door.

A familiar sight met my eyes.

The room was white and sterile-smelling. There was a long counter that ran halfway along one wall. There was a sink in it, and a Bunsen burner on it. I think the burner's just a prop. But that's just between me, you, and that big elephant over there.

In the center of the room was a long metal table. There were different stations set up around it, littered with sharp tools. Seven whitecoats with blue and green scrubs on under their lab coats were milling around, getting various instruments ready for use.

"Marge," one of them greeted Ms. Sylvester. His stubble was poking through his chin, and tufts of glossy black hair sprouted from under his cap. "Did you hear? They've finally gotten subject Eleven in California! Can you believe it?" He sounded extremely jealous, and his green jammies fairly glowed.

"Subject Eleven?" Ms. Sylvester said incredulously, leading me over to the table. "Wow! Isn't that the one that got away a few years ago?"

"Yeah," said the whitecoat, frowning. His nametag said JUST JONES, PLEASE. "There were five others. Subject Eleven is six years old."

"She's only six?" Ms. Sylvester sounded like she didn't know if she should be impressed that she'd lived that long or let down that she was so young. "But from the reports, her abilities-"

"She's six," said Jones grimly. Ms. Sylvester pushed me onto the table and turned me over so that I was facedown, strapping my ankles so I couldn't run.

"Wings, girl," she said, tapping my shoulder.

Breathing slowly, I worked my back muscles and unfolded my wings.

That's right, I said _wings_. Well, what were you expecting? I live in a dog crate with a human-simian hybrid as my upstairs neighbor. What am I supposed to have? Horns? Whiskers? A duck bill? I think _not._

I concentrated hard. If my wings hit the stations, they'd get sliced. Also, I'd be totally busted.

I finally got my wings stretched out – they were fourteen feet across – and the whitecoats continued their conversation as though this was something they saw everyday. Which, funnily enough, _it was._

"That was the Incident," Jones said. "You must remember."

Even I remembered the Maximum Ride incident.

A few years ago, six winged children had escaped from the School, aided by the non-traitor Jeb Batchelder. Maximum was the ringleader of their cozy little flock, and also happened to be a girl. (Pretty sweet.) But anyway, we'd heard about them all the way in New York, at the Institute. The School was in California. I didn't know where California was, only that it was far away. Far as the moon, where I was concerned. And where I was concerned, the moon could be as close as Monkeyman – it's not like I'd ever seen it.

"Yes," Ms. Sylvester breathed excitedly. "Maximum Ride. Subject One."

Ooh, she was subject One, was she? She was probably really important.

I wondered how old she was.

That was my last thought before they pushed the plunger into my shoulder. Pain spread through my entire being, like I was being crushed by a house.

Naturally, I blacked out.

I woke about six hours later. I had no way to be certain, but that's what it felt like.

The whitecoats were comparing notes.

"She _never_ changes," one of them grumbled, studying a graph. "We should put her on a different routine. Test her more often."

Testing me more often wouldn't change anything. Letting me fly would, I thought grumpily, shivering at the thought of more pain like this. 24/7, maybe…

See, I'd never flown before. I didn't even know if it was possible before hearing about Maximum and her flock.

"Are we done here?" Ms. Sylvester asked, coming in. "This has been a long session – ten hours at the most."

I gaped. Ten _hours_? I thought six was a long time – but _ten_? I couldn't even remember the last time I'd done a ten-er.

"Yes, we're finished," said Jones, without looking up. "Take it away."

I steamed while Ms. Sylvester unstrapped me from the testing table. I hated – _hated_ – when the whitecoats called me "it".

"Come along, Seventeen," Ms. Sylvester said, gripping my wrist. She led me out and back into the warehouse room. The mutants stirred in their cages as we passed them. I was led back into my crate. Ms. Sylvester latched the cage securely, then lifted Monkeyman from his cage. She walked off with him in his arms.

"What took you so long, Holly?" said a voice.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry, I know I forgot a disclaimer. But I'm pretty sure James Patterson isn't in 7****th**** grade in Atlanta. Also, he is not a girl. (That would be kinda messed up). And There are a lot of other differences between me and Mr. James, the details of which I won't go into right now.**

**Thank you to bridge to tabitha for showing me how to add new chapters.**

**Also, big round of applause to Samx5 for being the first person to review! Thankee, thankee. Everyone else, don't forget the second R of R&R!**

**Kisses, Schne**

Chapter 2

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Rex! You scared me!"

"Sor-ree," Rex said, grinning. "But seriously. You were in there for, like, eight hours!"

"Ten," I replied.

The first thing you noticed about Rex was the scales. Green and blue-ey, they covered the sides of his face, from the tops of his ears to the middle of his neck. Each scale was about the size of a pinkie fingernail, and they faded into flesh halfway across his cheekbones and at his collarbone. The topsides of his forearms were also covered, as were his shins, from the ankle to the knee.

The second thing you noticed was his hair. It was blue – not bright blue. Navy blue. But you could tell.

The third thing you noticed was his eyes. They were almost perfectly circular, and all white except for a small black dot in the center. No color whatsoever.

You might not notice the fourth thing about Rex. He does a good job of hiding it, when he wants to. It's also his craziest feature.

Rex has four arms.

Yes, four. This means, four armpits. _This_ means, given the sad lack of deodorant around here, that the odor in this area of the warehouse is none too heavenly. The extra arms were also layered with scales, which made his pretty self-centered. It was like each of his scales had a tiny bit of ego injected in it, and put together with his already large self-appreciation, his head was rather swelled.

"Aw, who gives a crap," said a voice to my left. I turned and glared at my other best friend, Nifty. The first thing you noticed about _her_ was her ears. Her ears, you say? _Pardon moi_?

Yes. Her ears are perched on top of her head. They are pointed and furry, highly resembling the ears of a cat. Ha, ha. They _are_ the ears of a cat. Get it? Ha, ha…ha…okay, maybe that wasn't funny.

The second thing you notice about Nifty…hm, that would probably be her hair. It was extremely thick, and short, so that if you looked at her straight on she appeared to have a diamond encircling her head. It was kind of honey auburn. Nifty also has a long, furry tail curling out of the back of her hospital gown; she is 2% _felis catus_, or house cat. Rex is 2% lizard, but I think there's also some octopus thrown in.

Nifty's eyes are also kind of creepy; they are glassy and round, and golden, her pupils are vertical – and they glow in the dark.

And boy, did she have a cat-titude.

"Sorry, it's not like I was even conscious during the time I was serving," I hissed to my bosom buddies.

Rex looked miffed. He crossed all four arms. "So?"

Another voice reached my ears from across the aisle. "What's the status, Holls?"

I glared at the speaker, a small black Scottie dog with the unfortunate ability of the human language. Unfortunate for me, I mean. He really gets on my nerves.

"Me, myself and I are waiting over here," he continued.

"First of all, dog, it's Holly," I said. "Second of all –"

"First of all, Holly," the dog interrupted, "my card says Total. Not dog. I am _civilized_. I do not use the term "dog"." **(A/N: Does anyone else notice how similar Total is to Obi-Wan Kenobi from **_**Star Wars**_**? Or is it only me?)**

"Don't you? We both know that Total isn't a name. It's a _status_ – "

"It works for me," said Total, rather disdainfully. "Dog isn't a name either, smartness. And speaking of status –"

"What do you expect my status is? Drool plus?" Nifty reined in a snigger. She knew all about my problems with Monkeyman. "You really think it's _changed_?" I snarled.

Rex uncrossed his arms and held them up, four hands raised in surrender. "Whoa, Holly. What's going –"

"What's going on," I spat, "is that they're thinking of testing me more!"

I glared at the three of them, daring them to show sympathy. Rex's hands were all covering his mouth. Nifty was running her hands furiously along her tail, a nervous habit she'd developed long ago. Total's black maw hung open in shock, his pink tongue lolling.

"You're kidding," Rex said quietly.

I shook my head furiously. My long blond hair flew out in every direction. "Who would kid about something like that?"

"It doesn't matter," Nifty said suddenly, in a very un-Nifty-like manner.

I looked at her frostily. "Doesn't it?" I was in a wretched mood.

"No," she said dreamily. "I can sense something happening. Wheels settling into their places and starting to turn. This is just the beginning."

There was a startled silence.

"Well, folks," said Rex loudly, "this is it. Step right up to hear Nifty tell your fortune!"

"Creepy," said Total, shivering.

A thought struck me. "Does this have anything to do with subject Eleven or Maximum Ride?" I asked.

"Now Holly's got it too," Rex muttered, as though I had some sort of disease.

Nifty looked straight at me. "Yes, I think it does," she said quietly. "In fact, I'm sure of it."

**Nifty: Ooh, I sound ominous. Like some sort of leopard. You know, if we ever get out of here, I'm going to have closets and closets filled with leopard-print-**

**Me: Get out. If you had wanted to be the narrator of this story, you would have volunteered. I don't care if your claws are too long. They're retractable.**

**Nifty: -**

**Me: Don't even start.**

**Nifty: I was just going to remind-**

**Me: ShH!**

**Nifty: -the readers to-**

**Me: Shush!**

**Nifty: R&R!**

**Me: Okay, fine. Now GET OUT. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, Angel got messed up…Grr. I am officially mad at JP, who is, by the way, not me. Or I wouldn't have made it so bad! Also, I wouldn't have made I so short! It took me less than an hour to read, seriously!**

**I feel good for updating so fast. Hopefully you all like it so far. And **_**please**_** don't forget to review.**

**Kisses, Schne**

Three nights passed. Or at least, the hour hand went around the clock hanging on the wall six times. So, yeah, three nights passed.

Three nights have passed since I last saw Monkeyman. I think he's dead. I don't know why I was grieving for him, what with the drool and all. But he must have been about six. No one deserves that.

I was interrupted fro my reverie by voices. Unfamiliar voices. My mental ears pricked up – Nifty's real ears pricked up.

"Who is it?" I mouthed. She shook her head and shrugged.

"Okay, guys," a voice said from behind the wall that separated us. "Fan out, stay on guard, watch my back. I mean it! I'm going to try to hack in." The voice said feminine and authoritive. **(A/N: Is that even a word? My computer doesn't seem to think so.)**

There was a long pause. I mean really long. Then the voice spoke again, sounding frayed. "This is pointless."

"What's wrong, Max?" said a new, more girly voice.

"Who am I kidding?" the first voice said. "There's no way for me to crack the password. We've come all this way for nothing! I'm such a loser! I can't stand it!" There was another pause. Then the voice said, "Nudge?"

When there was no response, the voice said, "Hello? What are you doing?"

"Umm…try big X, little j, little n, big P, number 7, big O, big H, little j, and the number 4." It was a whisper from the more girly voice.

There was a pause. Then the voice said, "Did it work?"

"It worked," said the first voice, sounding stunned. "Where'd you get it?"

"The computer. Like, when I touched it. I can see the person who works here. It's a woman, with frizzy red hair. She drinks way too much coffee. She typed to password, and I can feel it."

Wow. She could see Ms. Sylvester. Wonder why she didn't mention the glasses. I exchanged glances with Nifty.

"Wow! Touch something else!"

The second voice went on to describe Mr. Smith, Ms. Sylvester's boss. "I have a new skill!" the voice said happily. "I can do something new!"

"Hate to interrupt, but look at this folder," said a new voice. Masculine. Dark. It gave me the shivers.

"Ah, right," said the first voice. "This one?" Click. Then, "Oh God. Oh God. This is it!"

"Think we can print it?" asked the girly voice.

"Guess so," said the first voice. There was a whirr as the printer started up.

A new voice, much closer, said, "This is a big wall. I wonder what's behind it?" The voice was young, maybe eight or nine, and male.

"Maybe the real passage?" mused an older male voice.

A head came around the corner. It was a small boy. His blond hair was cropped short, and he had large blue eyes which widened at the sight of all the cages.

"Aah," he said, disappearing. "Uh, just a second, Max," I heard. "Look!"

Two more people came to stand at the corner. One was a girl, about my age. Her light colored hair looked freshly trimmed and waved to her shoulders. She was wearing new clothes, but her knee-high boots were covered with sewer muck.

The other was a boy. He was very tall, with shaggy black hair and dark eyes. He had on dark clothes. The girl was supporting him; his cheek was bleeding and his left side was covered in sand. Both of their eyes widened at the sight.

"What the..." the girl said, then recovered herself. "What is this?" I matched her to the authorative voice in the computer room. The boy was the dark, masculine voice I'd heard. I could tell just by looking at him.

Four other people had joined the boy and the girl: two boys and two girls. There was the blond boy with the huge blue eyes; a new boy who towered over all of them, with strawberry-blond hair and strange, nearly colorless eyes that were weirdly unfocused; a girl with mocha skin and a big blond highlight covering one eye; and a younger girl with curly blond hair, clutching a teddy bear.

"How can there be so many…?" asked the mocha-skinned girl. I paired her to the girly voice that knew Ms. Sylvester's password. "This is pathetic."

The small girl with the bear ran toward us. She crouched in front of Total. "Hi, doggie," she said, patting his head. "You look like Toto from The Wizard of Oz.

Total panted, but said nothing. Good. We couldn't trust these people yet.

The oldest girl gripped the bars of the nearest crate. The mutant inside stirred restlessly. "I'm supposed to save the whole world," she said softly. She looked up at the dark boy. "Remember?"

"You know we can't save them all," he said quietly.

She let go of the crate and glared up at him. "Well, I'm going to start with these guys." She turned to the others. "Start popping latches!" she ordered, and they hastened to obey her.

"GET READY TO RUN! WE'RE GETTING YOU OUT OF HERE!" she yelled to the mutants, who stirred. She looked a little disappointed with their reaction, and plunged into the fray herself.

All six were popping latches left, right and center. Finally I decided I couldn't take it anymore.

"Who are you?" I shouted, when she was near me.

The girl turned. Time slowed as our eyes met, and the noise in the warehouse faded to nothing. She looked startled. So she'd never seen wings before, had she? They weren't _that_ insane. Maybe normal girls were just weird that way.

Time and sound returned and she popped my latch.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

She hesitated, then stretched out her hand. "Kids don't belong in cages," she said firmly. "Come out. Come out with us."

Well, gee, when you put it that way…

I reached for her hand, but she grabbed my wrist. Her grip was even stronger than Ms. Sylvester's. Ouch.

This was going too fast. I looked around. All the cages were empty, except the ones with mutants in them that couldn't function. Nifty and Rex were running along behind us. Total was in the arms of the smallest girl.

The girls shouted some other stuff as she towed me along. We rushed through the office, leaving it looking like a tornado had passed through – Ms. Sylvester was going to have a fit. Birds and animals were leaving waste everywhere. I was glad I was in the front. I was barefoot.

The girl opened the door at the end of the hall. Instantly the droppings smell was replaced by sewer smell. I resisted the urge to either hold my nose or puke and looked around. We were standing on a raised platform. Laying in the muck before us was a busted down grate.

"Where are we?" I asked apprehensively, clutching the girl's shoulder.

"Sewer system under New York City," she explained soothingly. "A _big _city. On our way to fresh air and sunlight." She stopped and looked past me, frowning. "But not just yet."

Blocking our path…was _Ari._

**Dun, dun, dun, duuuuunn! Does Holly**_** know **_**Ari? You'll just have to wait to find out.**

**Happy Valentine's Day! I may send you chocolates if you review!**

**Kisses, Schne**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Alright y'all, its already tomorrow….if that makes any sense. I am a fast updater, considering as it's Friday morning and I woke up approximately ten minutes ago to an empty house and no note from my dad. (Don't you hate when that happens?) I could call him, but I'm too lazy. So…here I am.**

**Also, I do not own Maximum Ride. But I **_**do **_**own Rex and Nifty. Heh. I am not James Patterson, who probably does not sleep until eleven o'clock on a Friday. **

**I just have one thing to say: m4tigers, I'm going to pretend I don't know you and/or see you every day, and say that I said it **_**wasn't about**_** Max, not that it **_**didn't**__**have**_** Max in it. And please stop leaving personal reviews. Now everyone knows, haha. Okay, here we go.**

**Kisses, Schne**

FLASHBACK

"Who's _that_?" Nifty whispered.

I looked to where she was pointing. A small boy was being led into the lab by three whitecoats. He had spiky brown hair and dark eyes. His clothes were baggy and ill-fitting. He had no shoes, just socks filled with holes. He looked terrified and excited at the same time.

"Dunno," I whispered, just as my friend Zia placed a claw to her muzzle and said, "Ssh!"

I shot her a Hairy Eyeball and listened.

"…father abandoned him for subject One," one of the whitecoats was saying to Mr. Smith, Ms. Sylvester's boss. "We think he's suitable for the lupine DNA."

"Hmm…we'll see what we can do," said Mr. Smith. "But firstly, why did you bring him here?"

"The Director ordered it," said the whitecoat stiffly. I frowned. The School, which was where these whitecoats were probably from, was a much better facility than the Institute. Why would they want to bring a small boy _here _to be tested on? It didn't add up.

Mr. Smith was obviously thinking along the same lines as I was, because he gave the whitecoats a suspicious look, but said, "And what's his name?"

"Ari Batchelder."

Ari thumped his skinny chest.

"Okay. Come with me, please, Ari," said Mr. Smith. Ari took his proffered hand and followed him trustingly, though with my amazing raptor vision, I could see his heart thumping from here.

Once he'd left, I glanced at Zia. She was a mixture of lizard and bat, with a healthy amount of growth hormone mixed in. This created the magnificent sapphire dragon curled up next to me. Her crate was the size of two BMWs parked next to each other. Her entire body was curled around the perimeter, and her tail spiraled into the center. She had a feathery yellow plume growing from her forehead, and twenty lethal talons growing from her paws. Fangs glinted in her mouth from where they poked out over her lips. She had no space, and she only really moved when she went in for testing, because her crate was spiked with electricity and her and Rex's scales were perfect conductors of electricity, so if she touched the crate, she'd die. The whitecoats had to wear special gloves to open the crate and put on her muzzle. And, of course, there were the huge bat winds folded across her back.

Rex's crate was on the other side of Zia's. Nifty was right next to me. The crate across from me was empty; they hadn't made a mutant to occupy it yet. Monkeyman was my new upstairs tenant; I doubted I'd ever get used to his constant drool.

Zia's great leathery wings fluttered a little. "So who was that?"

"Dunno," I said again.

"Ari Batchelder," Rex offered with a smirk.

"Doh," I told him. Nifty sniggered.

"Well, you asked –!" Rex began, but stopped when Zia inspected her claws.

"You know how they said that his father abandoned him for subject One?" I said.

"No," Rex complained. "My ears aren't super-amazing."

I considered asking him how he'd known what Ari's name was, if his ears weren't super-amazing, but decided not to. Nifty and Zia nodded.

"Remember Maximum Ride? The guy who helped them was named Jeb Batchelder. _Batchelder._" I looked at them, waiting for them to get it.

It dawned on Zia first. "Oh! You think Ari is – "

"Jeb's son," Nifty said, nodding.

We were interrupted by a high-pitched scream. The scream lowered as we listened into an agonizing roar.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Zia murmured. My brows drew together. Nifty suddenly became preoccupied with her tail.

On cue, the door they'd led Ari into was busted off its hinges. It fell to the ground with an earth-shattering _smash_.

Out of the room stepped the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen. It had long, spiky hair that rose up above its head, and dark eyes like Ari. It was the size of a full-grown man. Its hair was filled with bits of green plaid cloth – Ari's shirt – and bits of leather – Ari's belt. Ari's pants, which before had been at least seven sizes too large, now fit it perfectly. It had no shirt on, and new muscles bulged on its chest and arms. Someone had taken its socks off, and it had long talons. Its hands were clenched, the long nail/talons digging into its calloused palm. It roared again, and I saw that its teeth had become fatter and pointier.

Its crazed eyes finally settled on my wings. It fell silent.

"NO, ARI!" the whitecoats were screaming. "IT'S NOT MAX! IT'S SEVENTEEN! NOT MAX! DON'T ATTACK –"

Too late. It – Ari – roared again. He picked up my crate and held it in front of him. I cowered into the back corner, my heart thumping crazily.

"Ah, Max," he shouted, his breath rancid in my face. "So nice to see you again. Except this time _I'm _the powerful one. Get it? Me. Power." He laughed demonically.

"Put her down!" shouted Rex in a rare show of bravado.

Ari glanced at him. "Shut up, Fang," he snarled.

"PUT HER DOWN!" Nifty shrieked. Zia roared, exposing her long teeth.

"Ah, Nudge," said Ari, wagging a finger at Nifty, "how you've changed. And little Angel! I always said you were a dragon at heart."

He was raving mad. He thought we were Maximum's friends!

"If you insist, though…" Ari said, and dropped me. My crate smashed down crookedly between Nifty and Zia – one corner pointing down, the sides balanced on their crates. I bit my tongue and tasted blood.

Ari laughed. Again. He turned on Zia.

"Where's your big brother?" he screeched. Zia looked mystified. "Gasman isn't here to protect you now, huh?"

He stuck a finger through her crate. It shocked him. He roared and fell onto the crate. It kept shocking him. The corner bent inward under his weight and touched Zia's scaly flank.

"NOOO!" I screamed, echoed by Nifty and Rex. It was happening in slow motion.

With a great agonized scream, Zia's whole body lit up like a fireworks display. Her scales crackled with lightning. Rex pressed up against the side of his crate, gaze horrified and terrified, all two hands covering his mouth and two pressed against the wall of the cage. Zia's whole body arced. Her tail whiplashed onto Ari's back, throwing him off on the crate. Then she lay still.

She was dead.

I flung myself against the bars of my crate. "Murderer!" I sobbed. "Evil creature! Murderer!"

Ari picked himself up off the floor. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, then he shook his head and the madness returned.

"One down, five to go," he grinned. "Actually, _three_ to go. Looks like someone disposed of Gasman and Blindey for me. I'm disappointed."

He turned and ran down the corridor, leaving us with tears running down our faces.

**A/N: So she **_**does**_** know Ari! And he killed one of her best friends. No wonder she's so scared.**

**Rex: I resent the "rare show of bravado" thing.**

**Holly: Well, it's true. **

**Nifty: Yeah. Me, on the other hand –**

**Me: NIFTY! How many times do I have to tell you?**

**Holly: Yeah, Nifty. Get out.**

**Me: (looking stern) You too.**

**Holly: Okay, but first I need to say that it's not Valentine's Day yet. You can still get chocolate if you review!**

**Me: Okay, now get out. You already hog the story. You don't need to hog the Author's Note as well – especially since none of you are the authors.**

**Holly: Well, technically since its from my POV, I –**

**Me: BYE!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yo.**

**To RomanticFictionFreak: YOU ARE RIGHT! Angel is **_**not**_**out yet. BUT. I ordered it early, so I got to get it on Wednesday. Heh heh. **

**To m4tigers: Please don't say something in your reviews unless you mean it. **

**To Swahili: HATS OFF TO U! u r my bestest reviewer. Everyone else, take a leaf out of Swahili's book. Thanks.**

**To dad: please don't review.**

**Disclaimer: I am not JP. I do not own MR (unfortunately).**

**Okay, that's it. **

**Kisses, Schne**

FLASH FORWARD (REAL TIME)

I was shaking from head to toe. I'd hoped never to see Ari again; after he'd killed Zia, I'd hated his guts. It seemed a little unfair, even to me, since he'd been about four or five when he'd been Eraserfied and it had been an accident. But you know what they say – well, they say a lot of things. And Zia was still dead.

"We need to chat, Maximum, you and I," said Ari evilly, not sounding much more sane than he'd been the last time I saw him.

I stared at the girl in front of me in a new light. Had he just called her Maximum?

_This_ was Maximum Ride? She was only my age!

Maximum – Max, the flock called her – glanced at the dark boy. "Lead them out, Fang," she ordered. "I'll buy us some time."

Fang nodded. The crowd of mutants starting moving, lead by Fang and the other older boy with the unfocused eyes. I fell into place beside him, wondering why he was trailing his hand along the wet and slimy wall, as if feeling for cracks.

"Hi," I said.

He looked in my direction. "Hi," he said. "I'm Iggy."

"I'm subject –"

He cut me off. "No, you're not. You're a person. Not a subject."

I laughed. "You seem to know a lot about it," I said, a little nervously. For some reason, I was getting the feeling that if I made this boy mad, he might – might blow me up, or something.

"More than you think," he said grimly.

"Oh," I said, thinking aloud. "Right. _You're _in the flock. So you have wings as well, correct?"

"What?" he said, sharply. "Did you see Max's wings?"

"No," I said, frowning. "No, I…" How did he miss my wings? They were in plain sight!

"Sorry," he said. "I'm blind. I miss stuff like that." He sounded a little sad, but when I looked at his face, it was hardened and cold.

"I have wings," I told him, brushing my right wing against his shoulder.

He seemed surprised at my non-reaction to his blindness, but said, "Oh," like wings were something he saw every day. Which, funnily enough, _they were._ (Or weren't. Because he didn't _see_ anything.)

"How did it happen?" I asked, trying not to show any sympathy that he might think was fake. I assumed he wasn't born that way, considering that the whitecoats never accepted less-than-perfect babies.

"They tried to make my night vision better," he explained.

"Fail," I snorted.

"You could say that," he said, chuckling. _At least he can laugh about it._

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Might want to ask Fang that," he said.

"Why can't I was you?" I asked.

He pointed to his face with his free hand. "Blind, remember?" He looked like he was trying to hold back laughter. I had a feeling he was trying to set me up.

"Oh," I said. "Yeah. Well, see ya."

"See ya," he said, and I jogged ahead.

"Hey," I greeted Fang.

"Hi."

Suddenly, his smell hit me. It smelled so…_familiar._ Like I'd been near him before. I stared at him, trying to remember. A guy like this, I should be able to remember easily. I shook the feeling to the back of my mind.

He didn't say anything else, or make any sort of move that he recognized me, so I prodded him. "Iggy said to ask you where we were going," I said, jerking my thumb behind me.

Fang glanced sharply at me. "Why?"

"He said he couldn't explain because he was blind," I said, getting the feeling that I knew why Iggy had been trying not to laugh.

"And…you believed this because…"

"A blind person's experience in a city is different than a seeing person's. Since we're both seeing people, I thought you might be able to explain it better," I said sharply. I knew that Iggy was expecting me to say, _How can a blind person describe a city?_ But I wasn't stupid. Like Rex liked to say: _I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid._

"Just wait," said Fang. He pushed open a door at the end of the tunnel, and suddenly we were in bright sunlight.

I blinked. Hard. My eyes closed involuntarily and streamed.

"Turn off the _sun_," I moaned.

After a minute, I opened my eyes…and _saw._

If you've never seen a city before, or even been outside, or even seen natural light, then New York City hits you like a sledgehammer.

We'd emerged from a subway staircase set into a sidewalk. We may as well have been rocks in a fast moving river. New Yorkers flowed around us on all sides, all listening to or playing on what I later discovered were iPods and cell phones. People swept in and out of stores around us, hefting large bags with brand names printed across them in bold letters from hand to hand. No one spared a second glance – they were all so weirdly dressed themselves, I figured that we didn't exactly stick out. A few trees were planted here and there. Next to the sidewalk was a road, covered in honking cars and angry yellow taxis.

"Follow me," Fang muttered, slipping into a side alley. He walked along it until we came to an empty lot, mutants streaming along from the main road to the more secluded spot. A few beat up cars and beat up 4-wheel vans were parked in it. The ground was covered with poorly paved asphalt, making me hobble in my bare feet.

"We need to discuss some stuff," Fang announced to the group. All the heads turned toward him.

"Like what?" Nifty asked, crossly.

"Like if you're going to stay with us." His voice was hard and edgy. I started to get a knot in my chest.

"Well, I kind of assumed…" I began, but then realized that I had no idea what I'd assumed. But it was definitely not that they'd just kick us out after rescuing us. It was _not_ that we'd have to fend for ourselves. We had never had to before. I mean, life at the Institute for Higher Living wasn't exactly the best, despite its paradisic name. In fact, it was one of the worst. But we'd had a roof over our heads, and free food. Well, not free, but we hadn't paid for it with money.

"Assumed what?" Iggy asked, sightless eyes hardening. "That we'd be able to feed and clothe all forty-seven of you?"

"How do you-"

Fang waved his hand. "Let's vote."

I stared at them. They had seemed so friendly before, especially Iggy, but now they were almost shouting in our faces, _"WE DON'T WANT YOU AROUND!" _Fang was trying to be diplomatic about it, which was nice, but since we had no say in it, it was pointless.

"Who wants them to go?" Fang said, but before I could see hands raised against me, I said, "Fine. Be that way."

I was shaking with fury. Without my needing to say anything, Nifty and Rex appeared at my sides.

I mock-saluted the flock.

"See ya, losers," I said, and took off.

**WOW! There's a little secret that Max never knew about. I bet she wouldn't be very happy with her precious Fangy if she knew what he was capable of. **

**The chocolate offer still stands. REVIEW!**

**I will love you forever if you do! (Oh yeah, for the Gleeks out there – I'm so sad about Sam! My poor baby. Please let me know what u think!) Kisses, Schne**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey y'all, what's up.**

**I just got back from dance practice, and boy are my legs sore. I advise you not to dance vigorously around for 2 ½ hours multiple times a week. It wears you out.**

**Please don't give me grief for this story. Holly, Rex and Nifty are not, I repeat not, accomplished fighters like the Flock. If they got in a tussle with an Eraser, they would probably die. And I am not a fan of killing off main characters like James seems to be. Oops. I did not just let that slip out. **

We camped out for an hour in Madison Square Gardens, trying to figure out what to do next. Our butts were parked high in a tree. Nifty, who had retractable claws, and Rex, who had tiny suction cups on each finger, had waltzed up while I had to shimmy like an upward-going firefighter.

When I finally reached their branch, the only reward I had gotten was them laughing in my face.

"You're the one who has flippin' _wings_," Rex teased. "You should be able to get up here, like, in two seconds."

"Fly up like a little birdie," Nifty sing-songed, and they both roared into laughter.

I frowned. "Yeah. Hilarious. We all know that Nifty's a regular laugh riot. But you both know I've never flown before. And I'm _not_ about to start here in the middle of New York! You think that people won't notice someone whipping out some wings and flying?"

"Again, the birdie," Nifty laughed, pushing hair out of her eyes. "You know what the mama birdie does to the baby birdie…?" She wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively.

I got it. "Oh, no, you don't," I said, putting out my hands in self-defense. "Not in front of everyone."

She'd been about to push me out of the tree – her arms were out and everything. But then she reconsidered. "Actually, you're right, for once, Holly," she said. "I won't make you fly here. But it will be coming when you least expect it." She settled back comfortably and locked her hands behind her head.

"And the higher up, the better!" Rex said loudly, causing them to crack up again.

Do an eye roll on three.

WE decided to get out of New York ASAP. The Institute whitecoats were probably already on our trail. There was only one stop left: Goodwill. We were still wearing our lab clothes, which left me and Nifty in hospital gowns and Rex in blue pinstripe jammies. Still, we were pretty inconspicuous against all the fishnets and rainbow 'do's.

Except there were no Goodwill's to be found.

We searched for hours, I swear, before collapsing on a bench.

"Duuuude," Rex moaned, putting a hand over his stomach. "Hnnnnngry."

"Say no more," I assured him. Inside, I was worried. I had become our unofficial leader, and I'd taken the responsibility of feeding the three of us. But clothes came first. We needed a hat for Nifty's prominent ears, a shirt _without_ four armholes for Rex, and something to cover his scales. "But let's not think about this right now. We need disguises."

We all looked at each other and just started busting up. I still don't know why. Maybe because we were finally _out_. Maybe because nearly all of our newfound freedom was spent worrying about _clothes_, of all things. Or maybe because we'd seen the wackiest, most ridiculous clothing store a few blocks back.

We got up and went back to the store. A banner hung across the entrance: U 'DO: TOMORROW'S STYLES TODAY GRAND OPENING! FREE! ONE DAY ONLY!

We looked at each other, nodded, and stepped inside.

INSIDE the store – well, what can I say? It was crazy. I couldn't even really _see_ the store, there was so much color and fluff. Neon mesh fabric and polka dotty tights and tight vests and rainbow wigs and animal print sweaters and curled shoes and ripped T-shirts and more. There was even a restaurant.

A woman with knee-length green hair and a man with orange chin-length bangs rushed over to us. "Welcome to "U 'Do"!" they squealed. "Are you here for the one-day special?"

We nodded.

"Here are the rules," the woman said. "You get a complete makeover as long as your stylist gets to do whatever they want!"

"And, just because we're nice…" the man began.

"We'll throw in a free meal as well!" the woman squealed.

"Go for it," I said.

WE were let loose to find some clothes. Nifty made a beeline for the animal print section. (She'd always dreamed of leopard print.) Rex went back to the boy's area. I wandered around, probably looking a little lost.

"Need some help?" asked the green-haired woman, coming up behind me. I jumped and nodded, reading her nametag, which said LORI.

She helped me gather an ensemble and then pierced my ears without asking me. (It hurt. A lot.) Then came the part I'd been dreading: hair. My hair was really long – I'd never cut it – and really, really gross: dried drool and knots the size of Africa had been occupying it since before I could remember. But Lori just washed it and put in about half a bottle of conditioner. She brushed it afterward, and then cut side bangs and layers at the very bottom. It came out looking and feeling like silk.

I put on my new clothes, along with two or three belts she had me loop around one hip. Then I looked into a mirror that I had been provided.

A whole new me stared back.

My hair looked like a river, flowing down my back. It had lilac streaks in it, despite my protests, but they didn't actually look that bad. Eyeliner and mascara had been added to my eyes, making the blue stand out. A black and purple lumberjack overshirt was unbuttoned over a T-shirt with thick black and white stripes, the belts crossing diagonally over my stomach. Black jeans were tucked into white combat boots, giving me a strange sense of confidence.

Lori came to stand behind me. "It looks great," she said. "Now how 'bout some food?"

"Those are the magic words," I said, tearing myself away from the mirror. Before just now, I'd had no idea what I looked like.

And yet, I felt as though I'd seen my face before.

She laughed, ignorant to my déjà vu, grabbing my hand and taking me to the tiny food court. I got a hamburger – the biggest one on the menu – and was promised more if I needed it. I doubted I would: I was used to eating just enough to survive, and had a feeling my stomach would not be a happy camper if suddenly guzzled a banquet. Lori grabbed my food, sat me down, and then wandered off.

Just as I was taking a bite, Nifty joined me. She was wearing a black half-jacket and a golden leopard print T-shirt underneath. Her jeans were tucked into not combat boots, but those crazy knee-high Converse. A gold and back cap covered her hair, which didn't look that different except that it was pinned back by tiny stars. Makeup had been applied to her as well, making her eyes glow even more.

"You look nice, I commented as she slid into the booth and took a bite of her tuna sandwich. (I know, right?)

"You too. Where's Rex?"

"Err…" I saw him with the man with orange bangs, getting something to eat. "Over there." I pointed as he walked over and slid into the booth next to Nifty. He was wearing a white shirt featuring a green skull, a denim-and-leather vest that hung open, khaki cargo shorts, and Vans sneakers. His blue hair had been trimmed so that it covered his scales, but the scales on his upper two arms (his lower two were geniusly hidden) and legs were exposed and glittering.

"Rex-" I began warningly. But Nifty interrupted me.

"What happened to your eyes?" she cried.

I peered at him. His fully colored and normal eyes peered back.

"They told me I needed glasses," he said, bluish-green eyes staring at us. "So I asked for colored contacts. I figured my eyes…you know," he finished lamely. "No color and everything."

"That's all very well," I said, "but what about your scales?"

"What about 'em?" he said calmly.

"They're all…_flashy_ and stuff."

"They're clean."

"They're _showing._"

"Aw, give us a rest," Nifty snapped. "Seriously, Holly. Let the guy eat."

I glanced at her, but it had been one of her world-famous hit-and-runs, and she had already returned to her sandwich. (And if they're not world-famous, they should be.)

I sighed.

"So what are we gonna do after this?" Rex asked.

"Leave?" Nifty suggested, just as I said, "Learn to fly."

Nifty and Rex opened their mouths, but Lori came to our table, interrupting them. She cleared away the used plates and set down a video camera.

"Someone left this for you," she said. "You're to give it to me when you're done.

We turned on the camera and pressed play.

**Ha ha—talk about a cliffhanger! Have you ever tried typing a story while your little sister and mom's friend play basketball in the kitchen around you? How about typing a story while your cat shreds your jeans in an effort to get attention? No? Well, I have. I just did. Sadie is now chasing a piece of fabric around and around - I will never, ever understand cats. That's okay, though. I bet Sadie's wondering why I've been sitting in front of a screen for three hours.**

**Alright. REVIEW, PLEASE!**

**Nifty: I told you I liked leopard print.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! Loves and kisses from Schne. I find myself single (again) and if anyone wants to send me flowers and/or chocolate, that would be truly amazing. AND I would love you forever. Heh.**

**Okay, here we go.**

_The first thing that appeared on the screen was the sidewalk in front of the subway where we'd emerged. A fierce wind was blowing, and dead leaves were whipping around the sidewalk as Fang and Iggy emerged into view, Iggy's earring glinting in the sunlight. Fang's hands were shoved in his pockets. The camera zoomed in slowly as Max and the rest of the flock emerged, Max white and shaking. They had a murmured discussion which we couldn't hear. Then the screen started shaking, like the person who was filming was walking forward. Their conversation grew audible. _

"_Where are the mutants?" Max asked. "The girl?" _

I felt a stir of pleasure that at least Max cared about us.

"_They left," Fang said. "They didn't want to stay with us." _

My face grew hot. That was an outright lie! Rex and Nifty looked up at me, shaking furiously.

_Iggy was scuffing the ground with his sneaker, but Max had eyes only for Fang. His face was impassive, his body still. How did Max not know he was lying?_

"_Oh," Max said, looking at the ground. Then she said, "Angel, Celeste is looking dirty. Maybe she needs a show –"_

_She stopped. Clutched in the smallest girl's arms was Total! _

_The camera shook, and the video ended._

We sat in silence for a moment, furious at the tall, dark boy. Then Nifty stood.

"I – I can't think about this," she said, voicing all our thoughts. "I'll go return this camera. Be right back."

I settled back in the seat to wait, watching Nifty turn the corner back into the store. Rex slumped onto the table, fingers twisted in his shining hair.

"Hey," I said suddenly. Rex sat up, a dull look in his new eyes. "You know why the Flock was _at_ the Institute, right? Because they were trying to find out who they _were_. We should do the same thing! I have no idea who I am!"

"All I know about myself is that my real name is Lee," said Rex. "That's why I changed it to Rex." He looked like he thought everyone should change their name to Rex, just because he did. "And Nifty's real name is Cheyenne. But we don't know –"

"What my name is, yeah," I said, "or anything else about ourselves. We should totally break into the Institute and find out!"

"Yeah, but they'll have like ten times more security now that the Flock made off with all of their subjects," Rex said, sounding like he was angry to have been freed from that nightmare. "It's gonna be impossible to break back in there. Especially since they're on the lookout for us now. Holly, this is really unsafe-sounding."

"Let's see what Nifty thinks," I said. "If she approves, then we'll go. If not, I'll go on my own." I pulled on a lilac streak in my hair. "This is really important to me. I have _no idea_ who I am."

"Okay, said Rex. "We'll see what Nifty thinks."

I settled back and closed my eyes, promising myself that I'd just wake up when Nifty got back…

"_Just take them."_

_The words filtered into my head through a haze of color and shapes. I opened my eyes and yawned. Next to me, a dark-haired boy was sleeping, his navy-blue blanket pulled tightly over his back. A white blanket was wrapped around me as well, pulling my arms in to my sides, my wings squished uncomfortably against my back._

"_Obviously they got the correct DNA," the voice continued. "They have the gol darned wings that you grew on them. Just take them."_

_I looked sleepily at the speaker – a young woman, with dark hair and a bunch of piercings. Her eyelids were done up heavily with makeup, and her eyes were darting around crazily. I smiled in recognition. Mommy._

"_Where's the money?" she said, her voice raspy from cigarettes. A man in a long white coat pulled something from his coat pocket, handing it to her. She unfolded it, then gasped._

"_That's a helluva lot of money."_

"_Yes," said the man, smiling pleasantly. "Where are the twins?" He looked over at us. "Ah, there." Striding over to us, his shiny shoes sending up billows of dust on the floor, seemed to be what he had been placed here on this earth for. _

_He picked up the boy – my brother. "And how old are they again?" he asked, fondling the black fluff on his head._

"_Just a day." My mother's voice sounded accusing._

"_Well, Miss – sorry, what was your name again?"_

_Mother made no move to reply. Her eyes narrowed at the man – a perfect rebellious teenager. _

"_I wish you had contacted us sooner. We normally receive them when they are just an hour old."_

"_So I'm not allowed to spend time with my own children?"_

"_That is correct." The man turned his attention back to my brother. My mother looked horrified, then angry. _

"_I take it back."_

"_What?" said the man, only halfway paying attention._

"_I said, I take it back. You can't have them." Her voice was furious._

"_No?" said the man, rubbing his hand on my brother's cheek mindlessly. "And your parents are okay with this?"_

"_I told you, they kicked me out. As soon as they found out I was pregnant. You think they would live in this shi-" She seemed to struggle to control her language – "this hellhole? I had to find this myself." She rubbed her stomach, apparently not used to it being flat. "If I can find my own house and food, I can take care of my own kids."_

"_I'm sorry. You already signed them off to us."_

"_What? Wait – no! I said, I take it back!"_

"_I'm sorry," the man repeated. "You can't have them back." He laid down my brother and picked me up, not bothering to support my head. It lolled downward, making my neck ache painfully. He fingered the fluff on my head, making me shiver a little. I yawned again, wishing the blanket weren't so tight. If it was only a little looser, I could just fall back to sleep and forget this nightmare._

_Mother stood up suddenly, knocking her chair to the ground. She was only 5 feet, 2 inches, but probably not done growing. "I said, NO!"_

_My brother woke up suddenly and began to cry._

"_And I said, you don't have a choice," said the man over my brother's wails. _

"_Watch me stop you," said my mom defiantly._

_The man's hand plunged into his pocket and came up with something long, black and shiny. "Okay," he said._

_Mommy screamed. "No – please –"_

"_Teenagers are so _useless_," he said, jerking his finger against the shiny black stick. _

_There was an earsplitting noise, making me start to wail as well. Mommy fell to the ground, clutching her throat. Red liquid spread out on the floor, wetting the dust._

"_Mission accomplished," said the man. Then he looked me right in the eyes and said, "Holly?"_

My eyes opened. Rex was standing over me, looking pale. "Holly?" he said.

"Yeah?" I said sleepily, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. "What?"

"It's Nifty," he said. "It's been two hours, and she's not back yet."

**Woah! Holly has some creepy dreams! **

**Review!**

**Schne**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys. **

**Virtual chocolate goes to: m4tigers, Swahili, Melody Calls, Light In The Endless Dark, RomanticFictionFreak, Confetti Storm, and rachaelmaxwriting4jc. THANK YOU SO MUCH! Mwah. I love all of you. **

**Disclaimer: I am NOT JP, I do not own Maximum Ride…*Sob* Or else things would have turned out VERY differently! No I have to make do with what I have.**

**Alrighty…..here we go, I guess.**

Instantly I was wide awake, the creepy dream forced to the back of my mind.

"What?" I asked. "She's…not here?"

"Look around," said Rex irritably. I did so, expecting Nifty to jump out from behind a rack of clothing, shouting _Gotcha!_ But she didn't.

"Did you _look_ for her?" I asked, a little suspicious.

"Yes," he said. "Everywhere. I've been looking for over an hour for her."

That got my attention. "Over an hour?" I said. I stood up, stretching quickly. "Where do you think she is, then?"

His voice was low and serious. "I think they got her," he said.

It took a couple seconds for this to process in my brain. "No," I whispered, horrified.

He nodded.

"Okay, then" I said decisively. "We're going to go get her."

Rex looked terrified. "But what if they get us, too?" he asked fearfully.

"If they get us, we'll all be together," I said. "Do you want to leave Nifty to those freaks?" As I said it, I watched him recalling memories from the Institute. He closed his eyes in pain. My own memories flashed through my brain: running through mazes, swimming across huge distances, eating strange concoctions to see how my body reacted, leaving me paralyzed for days.

Rex opened his eyes.

"Okay," he said. "Let's go get her."

"Atta boy," I said. "And while we're there, we can steal–"

"'Scuse me," said a voice, "but can I help you?"

We looked up slowly. Standing over us was a burly security guard.

"Er…no," I said nervously. His brows drew together. "No, we were just leaving."

"And where might you be going?" asked the guard.

"Uh…home?" I said. It came out like a question.

"Will you allow me to accompany you?" the man asked. His coffee-colored hands clamped down on our shoulders, so big that they were able to stretch across out necks and reach both of our shoulders at the same time.

I shared a scared glance with Rex. I was strong enough to break out of this man's grasp, but Rex wasn't. He was actually pretty weak. Maybe I could pull him…

"Actually, our parents are picking us up," Rex said quickly. "Well, my mom, her aunt."

"I'll wait with you," said the security guard. "Let's go outside."

He steered us out of the room and onto the curb. I clasped Rex's hand, ready to pull.

_3…2…1…_

"Run!" I shouted, yanking myself from the guard's grasp and using my momentum to pull Rex as well. The security guard looked startled for a moment, apparently not used to kids getting out of his grasp. Then he gave a startled "Hey!" and tore after us.

I'd never flown before. But now seemed like a good time to try.

I whipped out my wings. People around me stopped and stared and screamed. The security guard's chin dropped. I pushed down and rose a little into the air.

"Holly!" Rex yelled. "What are you _doing_?"

"Jump!" I yelled. I pushed down again with my back muscles, surprised at how easy it was. After all this time…Well, maybe I should get back to the scene.

"JUMP!" I yelled again, not bothering to wonder how far I could carry Rex. Hopefully, I wouldn't suddenly realize what I was doing and fall.

Terrified, Rex shook his head. The cop was nearing us, and I had no idea what to do. He seemed to have forgotten his initial shock and was now more determined to catch us than ever. More and more people were crowding over, pointing and taking pictures.

"Hide," I hissed to Rex. "I'll distract them."

Rex nodded and disappeared into the crowd. The security guard stopped, confused. Then he focused on me.

I flew a bit higher, my wings casting shadows on the faces of the people below. There was more screaming. I'll admit: I probably looked pretty amazing.

I certainly _felt_ amazing. The wind was streaming in my hair, every muscle in my wings was working, my body was essentially lighter than air. All I could think was, _So this is what I've been missing. _This _is why the Flock cares so much. They're giving everyone a chance to fly in their own way._

I swooped down closer to the crowd. Too close.

"I've got her!"

Fingers closed around my ankle. I panicked and flapped hard, attempting to go higher. But the guard's grip was firm, and he was far too heavy to carry.

His other hand grasped higher up on my leg, slowly pulling me down. On my next downstroke, his hand grabbed a fistful of my white wing, pulling out pepper-speckled feathers. He stared at the huge muscle in his hand in awe.

"Let go!" I shouted, struggling. My free leg kicked frantically, and my other leg jerked around. I tried to pull my wing out of his grasp, but to no avail. I was falling toward the ground faster than I could think _Oh shoot._

Then I hit the sidewalk, one wing crumpling under me, the other still held high by the guard. I heard a _snap_ and almost puked when I saw my arm pinned down under me, my elbow bent the wrong way. The crowd pressed in closer, blocking out the sun. Something in my mouth was bleeding, and blood trickled out of my mouth.

"Well, well, well," said the guard. "What have we here?"

"We have a badass angel," I muttered, kicking at his foot. He just laughed, but his fingers tightened on my wing. Good. I'd managed to hurt him.

"An angel, huh," he murmured softly. The crowd gasped and surged closer, melting into a wall of dark shades. My arm throbbed.

"What," he said quietly, "is an angel doing here in New York?"

There were murmurs from the crowd. A flashbulb blinded me for a moment, and I looked up to see a well-dressed man holding a camera. On the side on the camera was a logo. I squinted. It said THE NEW YORK TIMES in fancy script. Oh, shoot. Again.

"Well, this badass angel just made the front page," said the well-dressed man. I groaned and coughed up more blood. "And what are you going to do with her, sir?"

"I honestly don't know," said the guard, laughing a little. "They don't teach you what to do in this situation in cop school."

The crowd tittered.

"You could let me go," I suggested blearily.

"Ha!" said the man, shouting to the crowd. "The angel asks to be let go!"

More laughter erupted from the crowd.

"Instead," said the man, "I think I'll hand you off to the perfect family. They're close friends with me. They'll raise you right." His words ended in a droning, buzzing noise.

My vision faded, and the world went black.

**All I can say is: Holly, you've gotten yourself into a fine mess.**

**Review, please, people! The last chapter was only reviewed once. ONCE! I know you can do better!**

**Kisses, Schne**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey y'all, what's up.**

**Yeah, I know this is my second chapter today, but you know what they say: the more the merrier. And more is definitely merrier. Swahili, don't worry: she's not kicking back. Oh, no. In fact, the opposite. I'm sorry if there are any other Angel spoilers. I wasn't aware of them….except that one in like Chapter 4 or something. Anyway.**

**Disclaimer: I AM NOT JP. (Jeez. How many times do I have to say it?) I had big plans for this story, but…they were ruined in Angel. (That was NOT a spoiler!) So never mind. I think I can work around it, though. I'm trying to stay as accurate to the books as possible, so there will be no Folly. (Heh.) Sorry y'all…**

**P.S. Sorry if I sound a little irritable, I have an extremely irritating song stuck in my head. (You know, "Whip My Hair". Yeah, that.)**

**Alright. Talk to you at the end of the chapter.**

**~maia schne~**

_The area is dark. I am floating in some sort of liquid, my eyes squeezed closed, curled into a small ball. Through my eyelids I can make out distorted shapes: random light spots, my own nose, another dark shape in the space with me, and something feathery in my peripheral vision. The room gives a small jolt, and I bump into the other person, something soft and wet brushing my still-unformed shoulder – a feather. The other person is also curled into a small, egg-shaped ball, his fingers brushing my cheek. There isn't enough room for us both in this small space, but I know that we will soon be out and into the world._

_A voice comes to my new ears, sounding familiar, even though I've never heard anything before now: "Is that them?"_

"_This is them," confirms a new voice, an manly voice. _

_There is a gasp._

"_So the bird stuff worked?" says the familiar-sounding voice, which I now know is my mother. How, I can't say. I can just tell these things._

"_Yes, the "bird stuff" worked," said the man. "And now we should discuss their facilities. I'd ask you to sit, but you're already lying down."_

"_Why don't you sit, then," says my mother, sounding defensive. My hands float into fists._

"_Ha ha," says the man. "Your little girl looks like she's ready to fight someone."_

"_Wait – one of them is a girl?" says Mom. "Which one?"_

"_That one," says the man. "And _that_ one – he's a little boy. Looks like they're identical. You should know that boy and girl identical twins are very rare."_

_My brother's arms float around me. My cheek touches his chest. _

"_They love each other already," says my mom, sounding uncharacteristically emotional. "See that? He's hugging her."_

"_Yes, I see," says the man, starting to sound impatient. "Now let's talk about where they're going."_

"_Okay," says my mom absently. I can tell she's still watching us. My brother's arms don't drift away from me; instead, we snuggle closer. _

"_Your son," he says, "will be moved to a facility in California, while your daughter is going to New York."_

"_They're getting split up?" Mother's voice is sharp. "You never said that."_

"_You didn't really care before."_

"_True." Mom's voice is heavy. "But I didn't think they'd mind. She looks almost like she's listening to our conversation. I wish we could ask her if she wanted to leave him."_

I wish I could answer you_, I think. _I don't want to leave my brother. I feel so safe when his arms are around me. When we leave this place I want to be with him forever.

"_Well," says the man, "we can't ask them. So we'll just do what we think is right."_

"_Of course," says my mom, in a voice that indicates that she doesn't think this is right at all. "Definitely, Mr. Smith."_

I woke up in a comfortable bed, instantly alerting me to the fact that something was wrong. The room was very white, completely different than the Institute. So where…?

Suddenly, yesterday's events came flooding back with a mental BANG. I looked down at my arm, which was wrapped in a black plaster cast. I was wearing some sort of a pajama dress thing. Clutched in my other hand was a note.

I unfolded it and read:

"Angel –

These are your new parents, Mr. and Mrs. White. They have one grown adopted son named Rocky who is arriving to visit today. He goes to college at Georgia State University. The Whites are a very traditional couple and won't stand for any funny business. Any feathery business, shall we say. They don't know what you are, and I'd like to keep it that way. The New York Times is keeping this quiet, at least until they figure out a way to release it.

I will see you tonight for dinner.

Leroy

_Leroy,_ I thought, _that must be the cop guy. _I looked at the window, contemplating my escape from these Whites. But then I tried to move my wing where Leroy had grabbed it.

"Aaaaaaaaahhh," I gasped. "Maybe not."

"Oh!" came a voice from the hallway. The door of my room opened and a woman with wispy red hair came in. "You're awake!" she said, smiling at me with laser-white teeth. I instantly distrusted her.

"Well, well, well," she said. "Our new little girl. I'm sorry, Leroy wasn't sure about your name."

"It's Hol-" I started, but then realized that my real name might not be a good thing to give out in this case. "It's, uh, Sky." How appropriate. "Short for, uh, Skylar."

"Well, very nice to meet you, Skylar." Mrs. White patted my leg under my blanket. "Just give me a ringy-ding if you need anything." She paused. "You can call me Auntie Cindy. Oh, and Skylar? Do you have a last name?"

"Yes ma'am," I said. "Phoenix. You know, like the bird."

"Okay," she said. "Skylar Phoenix. Rocky will be here in an hour, and Leroy will be here for dinner." She stood. "Try to get back to sleep, now, Skylar."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, causing her to smile. She left the room.

I slid down under the blanket, but didn't fall asleep. Instead, my mind raced. The first thing that I thought was this:

I'd had two very strange dreams in the last twenty four hours, both from before I should be able to remember. I'd heard of the Flock having extra skills – well, maybe I had one as well. But being able to remember stuff from before I should be able to seemed like a pretty pointless skill.

Unless it was helping me find out who I was. If the dreams were accurate, it meant that my mother was dead – shot by a whitecoat – and I had an identical twin brother. Except, in the second dream, I was _inside the womb_. That was a creepy thought.

Suddenly, a jolt shot through me, and all the pieces fell into place:

I knew who my brother was.

I just needed to find him.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Yo.**

**Wow. Chapter 10 already. I guess I'm really getting caught up in this story, huh?**

**Hey, thank you **_**so much **_**for reviewing the story! (= That is called sarcasm.) Guys, there's like fifteen people who get alerted when I post a new chapter. It takes, like, **_**twenty seconds**_** to review the story. SO REVIEW. Thank you.**

**So no one could guess it, huh? Actually, one person got it…but I'm not saying who. You'll just have to read to find out!**

It was so _obvious_. Here were the clues:

-He has dark hair.

-He has wings.

-He's my age. (Duh.)

-We were split up – he want to California while I went to the Institute.

-When I saw him, I recognized his…_scent?_

-When I looked in the mirror, I saw his face. (Except the eye and hair color, we looked _exactly_ identical.)

I wondered why it had taken me so long. Maybe I just needed to know the dream from inside the womb to make sure of myself.

But now I knew.

I got up out of bed and swiftly changed into the clothes from U 'Do. I was getting out of here as soon as…ooouch. Just pulling my T-shirt over my head was painful. And then my cast got stuck in the armhole.

"What a predicament," I muttered, trying to shove my arm through. Tiny threads were getting stuck to the plaster. Finally I pushed it through and finished dressing, ready to run downstairs.

Mrs. White – well, Auntie Cindy – greeted me as I came down. "What are you wearing?" she asked.

"Clothes?" I said, thinking, _What does it look like?_

"Those are filthy," she said. "Let me wash them." She came towards me, looking like she wanted to rip the clothes off my back.

I backed away. "They're not that dirty," I said. "And I don't have anything else to wear."

"Oh, Skylar!" she nearly shouted. "We'll have to change that, now won't we?"

_I'll pass,_ I thought.

"And please don't wear shoes in the house," she ordered me.

"Well, I'm going outside," I said, clomping down the hallway toward the door, my boots thudding on the floor. I looked at the toe and realized that there was blood all over them. _My_ blood.

"Come back!" she yelled after me, but I was already gone.

I pushed open the screen door and stepped outside, blinking. There was a car in the driveway, and as I watched, a young man got out. He was probably around twenty.

"Hello!" he shouted at me, his brow wrinkling in confusion. "Who're you?"

"Sky," I shouted back.

"Oh." He was still confused. "I'm Rocky," he said.

Auntie Cindy pushed past me and ran out to the young man. "Oh, my boy!" she said. Then she stood at arm's length from him, her hand on his shoulder. She touched his clean-shaven cheek. "Where did your beard go?" she said.

"I shaved it off."

"That is evident," she clucked. "Well, your father will be disappointed." Rocky opened his mouth, but Auntie Cindy cut him off. "Oh! Your surprise is here!"

"Really?" he said sarcastically. I liked him already.

"Yes," she said. "You have a new little sister!"

His face lit up with recognition and surprise. "Sky?" he asked.

"Skylar." Auntie Cindy looked disapproving. "Come out of the sun, so she can see you. The sun is blinding."

Rocky came forward and stood in front of me. I looked up. He had auburn hair the same color as Nifty's, and a chiseled jaw. His brows deepened and his eyes squinted as he evaluated me.

Then, suddenly, shock passed over his face, and he whipped around to face Auntie Cindy.

"How could you do this?" he exploded, jerking a thumb at me. "Did you think about me at all when you took her under your wing?"

Auntie Cindy looked shocked. "Rocky!" she said. "You need to let go of your life before us!"

_So he was also adopted, _I thought. _But what is he flipping out about?_

"You can't let go of something like that!" he roared at her. She flinched. He flung his arms up in the air. "Are you _intentionally_ trying to hurt me?"

"No," she said. "This is just a girl who needed help. This is not your little sister."

Rocky's arms flew down to his side, where he clenched his fists. The muscles in his neck tightened. Then he stormed past me and into the house, pushing my shoulder as he did so.

I looked at Auntie Cindy, shocked.

"I'm sorry," she said tiredly. "He has a hard time letting go of what happened. Maybe you could go talk to him."

I turned and walked inside, up the stairs and to Rocky's room, not bothering to take my shoes off.

I knocked on the door.

"Go away," came Rocky's voice, "unless you're Uncle Bill."

I opened the door. "Rocky?" I asked. "Can I talk to you?"

He was lying facedown on his bed like a teenager. His arms were crossed under his head, and his fists were clenched. He didn't make a noise.

"Look," I said. "Can you talk to me about…whatever happened?"

"I can't talk about it," Rocky said.

Struck by inspiration, I said, "Does the name…Cheyenne mean anything to you?"

Rocky bolted upright. His face was ashen. "How did you know?" he mouthed.

I closed the door to the room and sat down on his bed, pulling my hair over one shoulder. "I grew up with a girl named Nifty," I began. "Actually, you could say that we were next-door neighbors. Nifty and I, and our friend Rex…well, you could say that we're a little unusual."

Rocky listened to me with an expression that can only be described as being like a hungry dog looking at a steaming, raw steak. "How so?" he asked.

"Before I say," I said, "I need to tell you what happened before we met each other." For some reason, I felt like I could tell Rocky everything that had happened. "When our mothers were pregnant with us, there was a group of scientists who wanted to see what happened if you combined human DNA with the DNA of animals. They decided to test it on us, for whatever reason. That happened to me."

"Prove it," said Rocky.

"Fine," I said calmly, "but you have to promise never to tell your parents."

"They're not my parents," he said crossly. "But I won't tell."

"Okay," I said.

And then I pulled out my wings, wincing as the sore spot stretched out. Rocky's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

"I was given avian DNA," I said. "This was the result."

"And the others?" Rex asked breathlessly.

"Rex has the DNA of lizards," I said. "Also, I think, octopus. He has four arms and scales. And Nifty has the DNA of a cat, with the ears, and tail, and claws, and everything. There are a few other minor things, as well."

Rocky nodded, openmouthed.

"I was never told my birth name," I said, "and recent events have led me to believe that I never had one. But Rex was named Lee at his birth. And Nifty was named Cheyenne."

A tear spilled out of Rocky's eye. "You think –"

"She looks just like you," I said gently.

"But where is she?" Rocky asked.

"Well, we grew up in a lab. I'll spare you the gory details. But yesterday, some other human/avian experiments –" my voice broke "– from a different lab broke in and freed everyone. Rex, Nifty and I left, but Nifty was recaptured. And Rex is now somewhere in New York City. Your friend Leroy? Yeah, he's the reason my arm is broken, and he's the reason I can't fly right now."

"So…Nifty's back in the lab."

"Yeah," I said, trying to swallow the lump of clay in my throat.

"Where they do stuff to you that is too gory to tell a twenty-year-old man."

"Pretty much."

"Well, we have to go get her," Rocky said, standing.

"What?"

"We have to get her, Sky. Think about it. My _sis_ –"

"My name is Holly. But Aunt Cindy doesn't know that."

"Yeah. Well, my sister is stuck in a lab where she – well, I don't know, but we gotta get her out of there! Come on!"

"Okay," I decided. "Let's go."

**Rex: Review, y'all.**

**Me: You have a Southern accent?**

**Rex: I do now.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey, y'all, what's up? Just for a heads up—I may not be able to update this weekend. I'm going to a dance competition in Greenville, South Carolina – and that is definitely out of range of my Wi-Fi. **** Wish me luck! (Even if you are miraculously reading this and thinking Woah! **_**I'm**_** going to HDF this weekend too! And we're competing against Atlanta! What a kowinkydink!)**

**Anyway, I am going for a little switch-up in this chapter. Tell me what you think!**

The rock-hard climbing wall, designed to be as hard as _real_ rock, gave way easily before Nifty's razor-sharp claws. Oh, the whitecoats were so _stupid_. They thought this was hard? They were delusional. They were –

_Ho-lee crap_, Nifty thought. The wall started shaking. Her claws were coming loose, her bare feet slipping off the hand-and-footholds someone had conveniently placed on the wall.

Nifty looked down. She could see tiny ant-sized whitecoats far, far below. If she fell, she'd be smushed. Flattened. Ka-put. Jeez, what she'd give for Holly's wings now!

She looked up. On top of the wall, red stuff was coming down. She could feel the heat from where she was crouched.

Lava. Molten lava. Nifty's ears twitched spastically. Her tail jerked around behind her, partly from nerves, partly from the continued shaking of the wall, and partly because she was having an equally hard time keeping her hands on the wall and off of it.

The lava was coming fast now. Nifty wasn't sure how she was supposed to keep climbing. Suddenly she saw that the handholds and footholds were sticking out about two inches from the surface of the lava. So they were fireproof, were they? She wasn't going to risk her life and limb for _that_.

She might have to, though.

Nifty risked another glance downward. The whitecoats' faces were all eagerly turned upward, the lights reflecting off their glasses. With her amazing 40/40 vision, she could see their hands all poised to write on their clipboards.

When she looked up again, the lava was upon her. If she'd had whiskers, they'd be singed off by now. She jerked back and lost contact with the wall as another tremor rushed through it, scrabbling at the now white-hot wall to try to prevent herself from tumbling into free-fall.

Panic. All she knew was replaced by blank, white panic. Suddenly one clear thought emerged from the terror and stood in the forefront of her mind, shining like a beacon of hope –

"Well, they do say that cats always land on their feet," a whitecoat said drily.

Nifty was crouched on the floor, startled beyond belief. Then the pain woke her. Her hands were black and bubbling. As she watched, they began to bleed, the hot blood making them hurt even more. She jumped up and began hopping up and down frantically, shaking her hands and howling in pain. They just bled more, splattering the whitecoats', well, white coats with red.

"Interesting," said a whitecoat as she crumpled to the floor and passed out.

Rex was very, very upset.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was in captivity. In captivity, yes, but with his best friends. Now, he was free, but he was alone.

Yesterday evening, he and Holly had tried to make a break for it from that cop guy. They could have run into a safe place, but for some reason, Holly had decided to try to fly. She'd actually managed to do so, but Rex hadn't trusted her to carry him. He didn't blame himself. Then, Holly had told him to hide, and he did so, fleeing like a coward. The last thing he'd seen of her was the cop grabbing her wing and her disappearing into the crowd.

He'd tried to shove his way through to the center, but that's what everyone else was doing: trying to get close enough to see the amazing "badass angel". Then, twenty minutes later, an ambulance had arrived and loaded her into it. Rex had almost vomited when he saw her wings all bent up around her, one arm twisted awkwardly underneath her head.

Now he was sitting in a dark alley, munching absently on a half-eaten muffin someone had thrown away, reading the newspaper. There was a long article about Holly. At the bottom of the article was this tiny paragraph:

"This is the second time angels have been sighted in the city in two days. Earlier this week, six winged children were seen in a restaurant before they flew up suddenly, upsetting the manager, breaking a hole in the roof, and flying out. Now a seventh angel has been spotted and captured. Is this the new Los Angeles?"

Rex crumpled up the paper in disgust and almost tossed the paper aside, but then he spotted a picture on the bottom of the page that he hadn't seen earlier. It was of Holly right when she'd pulled her wings out, gesturing to someone in the bottom of the picture. When he peered closer, he realized that it was him!

The caption underneath read:

"A boy was seen with this angel, but then disappeared in the large crowd. Is this an eighth angel? Or something else altogether? Keep an eye out for this boy."

Rex tossed the paper aside with the muffin wrapper. He stood suddenly. It was decided.

He would go save Nifty. Then, with her help, they would find Holly.

**Sorry it's short, y'all. And not about Holly or Rocky or anyone. But that's just how the dice rolled. And I have to go to my violin lesson…. **** They are not fun. Try it. Anyway, review, please. Tell me how you liked the different POVs.**

**Kisses, Maia **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: OMG! WE WON! WE WON! TAKE THAT, WISTON SALEM! HAHAHAHAAAA!**

**Sorry about that. I'm excited. Or, at least, I **_**was**_** excited. Then my sister annoyed me. Funny how they do that. **_**All. The. Time.**_

**Okay. I'm listening to Love the Way You Lie, Part II, and if you've never heard it, listen to it NOW. It is **_**amazing.**_

**Now to the story. See you at the end.**

"Aunt Cindy!"

Rocky stomped down the stairs in front of me, holding his jangling car keys high.

"Me and H – Sky are going for a little jaunt," he said loftily.

Aunt Cindy beamed. "Oh, that's wonderful," she said happily. "But remember, dear, Leroy is coming for dinner at four, and Uncle Bill will be here at four thirty. Please be back by then, okay?"

"Yes, Aunt," he said, kissing her cheek. I flashed her a smile and a quick "Bye" before trotting out the door after him. As the screen door slammed behind me, I felt a little thrill at the freedom of being able to go where I wanted, when I wanted.

Rocky slid into the driver's side, while I climbed into the passenger's seat. I stared at all the buttons in fascination.

"What does _this_ do?" I asked, pressing a small black button with a red triangle on it. Immediately the headlights blared on and a loud, incessant bleeping noise filled the car.

"That," said Rocky, pressing the button again. The noise stopped. He smiled. "And this button here –" He gestured. "Push it."

"Okay." I did as he instructed, and music filled the car. Rock music. The lead singer had a powerful voice, but her lyrics scared me.

"_Where are the people that accused me?/The ones who beat me down and bruised me/They hide just out of sight/Can't face me in the light/They'll return but I'll be stronger-"_

I stabbed the button as hard as I could, accidentally denting it and causing a few wires to pop out.

"Holy crap," Rocky whispered, staring at the button. "I guess that's one of the minor details you forgot to mention, huh?"

"What was that?" I hissed, breathing hard. "What song was that?"

"Er…I don't know, but it sounded like Fireflight," Rocky said. "A rock Christian band."

"Then I guess it's appropriate to say "Sweet baby Jesus, that scared the hell out of me," I panted.

"Sorry," said Rocky. "I'll change the station. If the button still works, that is." He flashed me a quick, tight smile and pulled out of the driveway, reaching for the dial at the same time. I squeezed my eyes closed, expecting to crash at any second. A new pop song filled the car, and I breathed out and opened my eyes. The screen on the car said LOVE LIKE WOE.

"It's my first time in a car," I said evenly. "Can you please be careful?"

"Not a chance," said Rocky evilly, pelting down the road and careening around the corner at breakneck speed. I let out a rather childish scream.

"Sorry, my dear," Rocky cooed, zooming through a yellow light. Just as we were passing under it, it turned red. "Now where exactly are we going?"

I gave him directions to the sewer entrance. It would probably take us about ten minutes to get there, but within five minutes, we had entered the city. I pressed my nose up against the glass, wishing I had about six more eyes, before I realized that with the kind of scientists I was used to around, you really had to be careful of what you wished for.

All too soon, we reached the subway entrance. Rocky parked the car on the curb and fed the meter some shiny silver coins. Then we approached the entrance to the subway. New Yorkers had been streaming out of it when we came out yesterday, but today there was no one, and the stairs were gloomily quiet and dark.

I took the lead, descending the stairs down to the tunnel. I knew exactly where the door was, but I just needed to –

Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out. I was enveloped in complete and total blackness, folding around me like a heavy, muffling blanket.

"Rocky?" I called. There was no answer. Oh, God. I wasn't even touching the wall, so I just swayed in place, not wanting to walk in any direction for fear of falling onto the tracks.

"ROCKY! Please, this isn't funny!" I yelled, feeling hysteria build up inside of me.

"Boo," said a quiet voice in the dark.

I screamed my head off, my heart hammering in my ribcage. My hand flew to my chest.

"OH MY GOD!" I shouted. Rocky's hand found my shoulder, and I yelled again.

"Skittish, aren't we?" Rocky muttered. I could tell that he was smiling. "Come on, the wall's over here."

I followed him over to the wall, trembling. My legs felt like jelly, and the second I reached the wall, I slumped against it, my palms pressed against the cold brick. Feeling a little to my left, I grasped something round and cold and metal-feeling. _The doorknob._

"Come on," I murmured to Rocky. I grabbed his hand and opened the door.

"Subject twenty-three, please come in for your testing."

Ms. Sylvester opened the door to Nifty's cage. She unfolded her legs with a sigh, hoping they wouldn't make her take her shoes off again for this exercise. They'd taken almost half an hour to put back on last time – but maybe that was because she couldn't tie her shoes. She had to fumble the laces into messy knots. Or maybe it was because her hands were almost too damaged for use.

She glanced at the thick mummy cloth wrapped around her fingers as Ms. Sylvester grabbed her wrist. They had hurt for hours afterwards, but were starting to feel a little better. If you could call _better_ feeling like your entire hand was a huge cut that someone had dipped in salt.

"This test will be simple," said Ms. Sylvester, her voice sounding strange. "You will be locked in a room for twenty four hours with only one object. We'll see if you and that object can survive the entire day. If so, you will be rewarded. If you fail to keep the object alive, you will be exterminated." She fixed Nifty with a steely glare. Nifty shivered inside of her brown jacket. "Halfway through the test, another subject will join you. And…we'll see how it turns out."

She pushed Nifty through the door into an empty room, with the lingering words: "Keep it alive."

Then the door clicked closed behind her.

Nifty scanned the room. It had no corners, and the walls were padded with foam. But there was nothing else in the room.

Suddenly a small cry alerted her to something behind her. She whirled around.

**See ya, y'all. Please review…I know you can do better. I will not add another chapter until I get 5 reviews on this one. That is not a lot of reviews, people.**

**P.S. I live in Atlanta. I'd be insane if I didn't like Southern accents. I'd be insane by now, I mean, because I hear 'em **_**every day**_**. And I have one. Ooh, the family in Michigan is gonna tease me…but who cares. **

**Love, maia schne**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys.**

**Funny how it takes so long to just get 5 reviews? I got my 5****th**** one around midnight Friday, but the laptop was in Mom's room, so I couldn't update. (Trust me, I would have.) **

**Anyway, I want to give a great big huge-o hug to bridge to tabitha, for suggesting my story. In return, I'll suggest hers: It's called Expecting, and it's amazing. Her others are amazing too, but that one's extra-amazing.**

**Okay. Here we go.**

All that I could hear in the sewer tunnel was a dripping noise and a steady rushing noise of water flowing. It was pitch black, and I carefully felt along the sidewalk-like edge raised above the sewage with my foot. Rocky's hand was curled tightly around mine, my nails digging into his calloused hand.

"You sure about this, Holly?" he asked me nervously.

"Positive," I said. "I can smell the lab chemicals from here." I turned around to give him a reassuring smile, but then remembered that there was no light, so we couldn't see.

"Was that a joke?" Rocky asked – again, nervously.

"Duh." I chuckled to myself, amused by his tone. Then my foot caught on a lip in the ledge, sending me tumbling into the sewage.

I landed hard on my butt. The river of muck was a lot shallower than I had expected, about three or four inches. My palms scraped cement, and Rocky yelled.

"Holly?" he shouted. "Where are you?"

"I'm down here," I said shakily. "I fell in."

"Ah," Rocky said in relief. "What'd you fall in for?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," I said, irritated. I stood and wiped my hands on my shirt, ridding them of about 50% of the mud.

"Where are you?" he asked. The echoes bounced down the tunnel and came back eerily: "_Are you, are you, aaaarrrreeee yyyyoooouuuu." _

"Ssh," I hissed. Rocky stopped moving. The echoes faded away until all we could hear was the water and a scurrying noise.

Rats.

Behind Nifty, curled up next to the doorframe, was a small bundle.

Nifty squatted uncomfortably, her skinny jeans crinkling under her knees, pinching the skin. She slid her feet out from underneath her, sitting Disney Princess-style, and picked up the bundle from the floor. It was wrapped in a blanket.

Nifty peeled the blanket away from the top of the bundle. A tiny face appeared, with thin red hair and purple-lidded eyes – not with makeup, but the color of a baby's eyes when they're shut. It's nose was soft and smooth looking, and a faint blush colored it's cheeks. But something was off about it.

She unwrapped the blanket a bit further, trying to see more of the baby. She did, after all, have the curiosity of a cat. The baby was probably around three months old, very young, and was wearing a blue jumpsuit with the words "Daddy's Boy" written on them.

Nifty teared up a little. Whoever had the nerve to take this sweet boy from his father was simply diabolical. Like all the whitecoats here were.

Then she saw it. A gasp escaped her lips, the only pair of lips in the room.

This baby boy had no mouth.

**Sorry it's so short! I'm having kind of a writers block.**

**Plus, I watched TITANIC last night for the first time, and I can't get my mind off it. **

**Loves and kisses, Maia**

**JACK: Review, please. Or else I might die.**

**Me: You are already dead. And you don't exist. AND this is not a story about you! (See what I mean!)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Okay, I'm gonna try something… maybe…I don't know. It depends on if I'm in a good mood.**

**Okay, so Dad and my sister Brynn are out getting a yummy treat somewhere. Next week it will be my turn. (smacks lips) Anyway, to the story.**

"Oh, God. Oh, God." My breathing was ragged. _Rats._ I sympathized with them, having been the lab kind my entire life. But that didn't mean I didn't hate 'em.

"What?" Rocky asked, reminding me again that he was just a regular human.

"Can't you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"Shut up for a sec." I listened hard. The scurrying was definitely getting louder. "Can you hear it now?"

"Hear what?" Rocky snapped again, then got quiet. "Rats?" he asked softly.

"Yes," I answered. "Rats. Any ideas?"

"Um…jump up on a handy ledge that we suddenly find?" Rocky suggested hopefully.

"Okay, let's find a handy ledge," I snapped, adrenaline/nerves racing through me.

There were noises like someone stretching up to the ceiling. Suddenly Rocky said, "No ledges, but there _are_ pipes."

"Pipes. Pipes." My mind raced, and I paced back and forth. "You can reach them, right?"

"Right."

"Okay. Here's what you're going to do. Stretch up and hang onto the pipe like a sloth. I'll fly up."

"Okay," said Rocky, and the noises he made indicated that he was hoisting himself up.

"Are they slippery?" I asked.

"Not at all," Rocky answered.

"Good." I spread my wings, tensing as the injured one twanged in reproach. Pushing down, I almost screamed as I rose myself the foot it took to reach the pipe and cling on.

"Ouch," I mumbled, once I'd gotten my upper half slumped over the pipe. I decided not to move any farther, just letting my wings hang limp like dying flowers.

"Bit of an underestimate, eh?" Rocky asked, a bit nervously.

"Yeah." I crossed my arms. My feet were beginning to fall asleep. I rotated them around inside my boots, but it just made the pins and needles stab harder.

I tensed. "Here they come."

There was no light, so we couldn't see the wave of rats that ran under us. But we could hear them, for sure. The scuttling of millions of tiny claws sounded like hail falling on a glass window. I shuddered.

"I can't stand 'em," I murmured to Rocky.

"What?"

"Rats. I hate them."

"Don't we all," he muttered. "Actually, I had a pet rat named Perry before Cheyenne was born. But then I lost…."

He trailed off, but I understood.

"They gone?" he asked after a while.

"I think so." I carefully jumped down from the ceiling of the sewer, folding my wings behind me but not pulling them through my shirt. I landed awkwardly with one foot on the sidewalk and one in the sewage.

"Holly?" Rocky' voice was right next to my ear. I felt around for his hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Come on," I said. "The door is right around the corner."

I felt the way forward with my feet, sliding it around until I was certain I wouldn't hit anything when I took the step. Rocky followed me cautiously, his hand bobbing up and down in mine. My heart was thudding in my ears. I put my hand over chest, feeling it beat.

"Nervous?" I asked Rocky quietly.

He laughed – well, nervously. "Hell, yeah. I haven't been this nervous since I took my driving test."

"You have to take a test to be able to learn how to kill someone?" I muttered darkly.

Rocky laughed.

Suddenly my foot went over the edge of the concrete, and I pulled it back. My hand waved forward and felt the corner. I turned.

"Go right," I instructed Rocky, and he did as I said. One step later, my foot hit the broken-down metal grate. I was surprised that the Institute hadn't fixed it up yet. Oh, well. I kicked it out of the way and it hit the ground under the sewage with a _bang_.

A couple steps later I found the door. I grabbed the handle and twisted it. It was locked.

"Dammit," I growled.

"Is it locked?" Rocky asked.

"Yep." I popped the "p", something that Nifty hated and I did frequently just to annoy her.

"Who cares?" Rocky said. "I can pick a lock."

"You _can_?"

"Duh, or I wouldn't have said so," Rocky said indignantly. "Move over a little, so that I can work my charms. You have something sharp?"

"Yeah," I said. I unbuckled one of my belts and slid it through the loops, bending back the buckle so that the part that goes through the holes stuck straight out.

"Perfect," said Rocky, fingering it. He took the belt from me and made some noises like metal scraping against metal. After a few minutes he handed it back, and I buckled the belt back on.

"Ready?" he asked, and then he thrust open the door.

The lights were on in the tiny room that we stepped into, and I had to shut my eyes quickly and blink over and over before they were adjusted. They were streaming.

There was another door in front of us, and a ladder that lead up to the ceiling. This door was also locked, but it had a retina scanner that it required to activate the lock now. Rex was right: they had upped security.

"Don't freak out," I said to Rocky, who looked well on his way to freaking out without my help. "I've had experience with this sort of stuff. They don't care if your eyes are the right eyes; all they need to know is if your eyes are on file. Which mine are."

"You sure?" Rocky asked.

"Positive."

I walked over to the machine and adjusted it so that it was my height. Then I bent over and placed my head on the tray, my lashes brushing the clear surface that scanned your eyes like a barcode at the self-checkout.

Suddenly, a million green lasers were all pointed at my eyes, making them water. I gasped and blinked, expecting the device to go off. Instead, the lights stopped. I stood and rubbed my hand furiously across my eyes.

Then something clicked. Me and Rocky both looked towards the door. It had swung open.

We were in.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Just keep this in mind: Nothing is what it seems. By the way, I really hope you readers are having as much fun reading this as I am writing it. 'Cos I am having a **_**blast**_**.**

**By the way, I really, really appreciate the nice reviews. If you send me a review that is interesting and nice I might mention you in the chapter OR PM you. Want to know why? Because I'm just cool that way.**

**All right. See you at the end of the chapter!**

**maia schne**

**Rex POV**

Rex crept out of the alleyway and emerged into the sun, blinking. The light flashed off of his shiny scales, nearly blinding him, so he shook his hair over his cheekbones to cover them. He straightened his new jean-and-leather jacket and strode down the street toward the subway tunnel, fixing the location in his mind. He had discovered awhile ago that he had a photographic memory, after watching whitecoats exchange graphs for years.

_Left, left, right, straight ahead…_

"Hey!"

Rex didn't look around to see who yelled. There was plenty of noise in New York, right?

"Hey, you!"

Someone grabbed Rex's arm. He shook it off and broke into a run.

"Please, wait up!"

No one had ever said please to Rex before. He stopped dead, even while he realized that this could be his last mistake.

"What do you want?" he growled, looking back to see the person following him.

It was boy. He was tall, over six feet, but looked about Rex's age. His long brown hair reached past his shoulders, but it thinned as it reached the bottom, and his bangs were brushed Bieber-style to the side. **(A/N: I could NOT resist that.) **His eyes were gray-blue, and his nose was sharp. A tiny ring looped over one nostril and into his nose. He was wearing a striped T-shirt, cardigan, and jeans with a thick belt and Vans.

"Hey." The kid reached out and touched Rex's shoulder. "Wait up."

"I just did," Rex snapped. The boy was taller than him, and he had to look up to see in his eyes. And if Rex had a pet peeve, it was having to look up at people. He was tall himself, at 5'9", but this guy was at least 6'3". If not taller.

"What do you want?"

The kid stuck out his hand. "Jordan."

Rex didn't take it. "I said, _what do you want_?"

"Where are you going?" asked Jordan.

"To meet my friend. What's it to you?"

Jordan withdrew his hand. "Sor_ry_. You just looked upset about something. I was just trying to be friendly."

He turned and walked away. Rex stared after him. He opened his mouth, then closed it. There was no room for a regular boy in his lifestyle.

Then-

"Jordan!"

The kid turned. His eyes were guarded now, not open and friendly as they'd been before. His mouth drooped.

"Come here."

Jordan didn't move. Rex sighed and trudged to him.

"Where are your parents?"

"What's it to you?" Jordan mimicked him. Then he looked ashamed. "Sorry. My parents are…are…are better off without me."

"Come on, then."

"Wait." Jordan held up his hand. "First, tell me your name."

_Should I tell him? Should I not tell him? Tell/no/tell/no/tell/no/tell/no/tell_

"Rex." Rex stuck out his hand this time, and Jordan took it. His skin was smooth and cool. They shook once, but didn't let go of each other. New Yorkers flowed around them.

"I'll tell you the story as we walk," Rex said.

"There's a story?"

"Yep. And once you hear it, all I can say is, feel free to flee."

***Nifty POV***

How did she not see it before now?

It was so natural for there to be a mouth, she thought, that she must have just assumed there would be one on the baby boy. But instead, there was just smooth, pale, almost purple-y skin.

She reached out a hand, carefully sheathing her claws, and stroked the baby's hair. Then she saw something on the blanket: a Post-It note pinned to the corner. She peered at it. It said:

_This is a very unique experiment. The baby boy you see in front of you does not require food or drink. He lives instead on light; solar-powered, if you will. He uses photosynthesis to "digest" the sun rays and can store energy for hours without getting hungry, like a normal human. He is unnamed._

_Weird_, thought Nifty.

_He is unnamed._

_Well, we'll just have to change that. Let's see. He has red hair…but, that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I wonder what color his eyes are._

The baby stretched and stirred in Nifty's arms. He did not yawn, obviously, but he didn't wake up either.

Nifty laid him on the floor and scooted back to retie her boot. While she was bent over, she felt eyes on her back.

He was awake. She peered at him and gave a gasp of surprise. His eyes were violet.

"Weird," she murmured. She picked him up again, and he stretched out his arms and touched her cheek.

_-around her the world exploded with color she was very cold and wet and new and everything was bright and she wanted to scream but she had no mouth to scream with and everyone else started screaming and she cried silently with huge sniffs and some big arms in a long white coat picked her up and ran out of the noisy painful room and the running of the big arms was sad and determined and the walls zoomed at them with great speed the overhead lights made her feel refreshed they went into a small metal room which went down and then they ran out of the room and down an evil hall out doors to an even bigger room that went on forever with no ceiling and then they got to a small green room on wheels and the arms put her inside and then came in after her and they drove away while she was still crying-_

Nifty gasped, panting.

The baby blinked at her and touched her cheek again.

_-smile-_

****Holly POV****

"Hide!" I hissed, leaping out of the way of the door. Whoever looked might have gotten a flash of blond and purple hair as I flew (not literally) out of their line of sight, but Rocky just stood there like an idiot.

"Hello?"

Ms. Sylvester's voice floated in through the door, and I cringed as a slew of bad memories overcame me, gripping me with maniacal talons and shrieking with laughter.

Oh, jeez. Someone call the funny farm.

"Sir?"

"Oh. Um…hello, ma'am," said Rocky.

_Now it's time to put the plan in action. _We'd agreed on an alternate plan in case this very thing happened. _Please, please remember._

"I brought someone here to see you," he said, then pulled my arm. I stepped into view.

"Oh, Ms. Sylvester," I said, then broke down "crying". "Oh, oh, oh," I blubbered.

"Holly!" Ms. Sylvester stood suddenly, her chair rolling backwards. "Holly! Oh, my dear girl!"

She rushed forward and enveloped me in a hug. I grimaced. _Get your hands off me,_ I thought, fighting and urge to push her away. Her perfume was choking.

"Ms. Sylvester," I cried, "those evil kids kidnapped me away from my home! I was lost for days. Then this kind man found me and offered to give me a ride."

"Where's subject Thirty-four?" Ms. Sylvester asked sharply.

"Here."

I froze. Rex and a strange boy were peeping in another door. The other boy looked terrified.

"Rex!" I yelled. "What are you doing here? Get out?"

Then I clapped my hand over my mouth.

"Hello, Ms. Sylvester," Rex mumbled. I could see his sudden realization of his mistake wash over him. The boy was staring at me.

"Thirty-four," Ms. Sylvester said coolly. "Why don't you join Twenty-three?"

_Nifty. _My heart stopped for a moment, then resumed beating. "Where is she?" I asked against Ms. Sylvester's white lab coat.

"She's…occupied." Ms. Sylvester smiled happily. "We just had to make sure she was recovered enough from her latest injury."

I untangled myself from Rocky, who was looking at me with fear in his eyes. He'd made the connection from Twenty-three to Cheyenne.

"It's her," he choked.

Ms. Sylvester whirled on him. Then she looked at me.

"You," she hissed.

Then she lunged for my throat.

**Oops.**

**Let me know what you think of Jordan. He was just an on-the-spot addition. **

**I like him a lot. I might make something start between him and…well, never mind.**

**Kisses,**

**maia schne. PS::REVIEW OR I'LL KNOW THE REASON WHY.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I don't really have much to say, except this: to Light In The Endless Dark, thank you so much for pointing that out about Rex and Jordan. That is a very valid point. But tell me this: does Rex really know that much about who to trust or not to trust? And you have to admit: he doesn't really get a chance to hang with too many boys. He needs a few guy friends. I just felt sorry for him, that's all. Thank you for your honesty, though.**

**Alright. TO THE STORY….**

**Nifty POV**

Nifty blinked at the little boy. He touched her cheek.

_-are you my mommy-_

"I can be," she whispered.

_-smile-_

"What is this that you can do?" she murmured to the little boy. His violet eyes gazed at her as he touched her face again.

_-i need a way to talk to my mommy-_

Nifty smiled against his chubby fingers. "Do you have a name?" she asked him.

She felt his confusion. His hand clenched into a loose fist, grazing her eye. The second her touched her eye, her vision blanked out.

_-she was inside his head looking at herself looking at herself like two mirrors facing each other back and forth and she saw herself in her eyes a tiny baby with her hand reaching up to touch and two big purple eyes staring innocently-_

He moved his fist, and she could suddenly see again, feel his smile in her mind, her desire for her approval.

"Do you know what your dad's name was?" Nifty asked.

_-no-_

Nifty thought. Suddenly the perfect name came to her.

"Do you like it?" she asked him.

_-yeah-_

"Good," she said, stroking Cory's head.

***Holly POV***

The second Ms. Sylvester's hands wrapped around my throat, I knew our plan was destroyed. Rocky gurgled in terror, and Rex's new friend froze, his stormy eyes locked on me. The heels of Ms. Sylvester's palms dug into my airway then, and I focused on her.

"Someone's a good actor," she hissed in my ear. "But I'm afraid that your Brownie points get subtracted for your lies."

"…lies…?" I choked. My vision was starting to get fuzzy.

"You want Twenty-three," she hissed. Her perfectly manicured nails dug half-moon cuts into the back of my neck. My hands flew up and grasped her wrists. "All along, you just wanted to get your pathetic failure of a feline experiment back to your side so that you could live like homeless bums on the filthy streets of New York."

"…Rex…" I gasped. "…help me."

Rex stood frozen in the corner like the coward he was. My vision faded out.

Then, suddenly, there were pounding footsteps, and Ms. Sylvester's hands were knocked off of me. I fell to the floor and blacked out.

****Jordan POV****

FLASHBACK

"_Mom! I'm going out!"_

"_And?" __my mom__ Jennifer drawled. I peeked into her room. Anne, the maid, was painting __Mom's__ Jennifer's toenails while __Mom__ Jennifer lounged with cucumbers over her eyes. _

"_Be back for tea," Jennifer commanded without opening her eyes. "You're getting your hair cut at four."_

"_Yes ma'am." I smirked. _In your dreams, _I thought._

_I withdrew from her room and leapt down the stairs, taking them two at a time and not caring if I got the pristine white carpet dirty. I was never coming back to this stupid house, which for all its hugeness never failed to make me feel trapped._

_I threw open the door and left it swinging behind me as I jumped off the porch, over the railing, landing in the bushes. I grabbed Jennifer's keys from my pocket, climbing into her car and plugging them in. I'd never driven before, but that was okay. I was planning on wrecking it._

_Such a shame, though. It was really a beautiful car. Dad had great taste in cars – he'd picked it out for her – but not really much else._

_I swung into the car and pulled the door shut behind me, grinning with excitement. Thank God. I was _finally_ getting out of this hellhole._

_I pulled the stick out of park and pressed on the gas, spinning the wheel to make it pull out of our looped driveway. I laughed in exhilaration, imagining Jennifer's face when she realized what her little boy had done. _

_I drove toward the city. The radio was blasting, and as I listened, it started playing my song. I glowed with pride as the radio announced it as the number one single. If my parents had found out what I'd done to release it, they would murder me. If they even knew that I'd released a song, they'd murder me. I almost had enough songs for an album, and a rapper had offered to feature in a remix of the one I had already released._

_As I entered the city limits, I started singing along to my song. This was the radio edit, so the music intervals weren't quite as long, which I wasn't used to, but I didn't care. The first time I heard it on the radio I'd started crying like a baby._

_I drove down a side street and opened the door of the car with my foot still pressed to the accelerator, slowing down enough so that it was safe to jump out. I did so, watching the car glide straight into a telephone pole._

_I smiled. Mission accomplished. The car was totaled._

_I ran out of the side street and into the daylight. Glancing around, I spotted a boy my age walking quickly toward the subway, muttering to himself._

"_Hey!" _

_He tensed, but didn't turn around._

"_Hey, you!" _

_I rushed forward and grabbed his arm. He shook it off and sprinted forward._

"_Please, wait up!"_

_The boy froze. He turned slowly and gave me a once over, his eyes lingering on my nose ring. I kept my face open and pleasant, something I was very, very good at._

"_What do you want?" he growled at me._

"_Hey." I reached out and touched his shoulder. He flinched. "Wait up."_

"_I just did," he snapped, looking up into my eyes. I had a good few inches on him, even though I no longer knew how tall I was. "What do you want?" He looked peeved._

_I put out my hand. "Jordan," I introduced myself. He didn't take my hand, just glared at it._

"_I said, _what do you want_?"_

"_Where are you going?" I asked, avoiding his question._

"_To meet my friend," he said, his eyes darting around shiftily. "What's it to you?"_

_I withdrew my hand. "Sor_ry_. You just looked upset about something." _Your back looked upset about something._ "I was just trying to be friendly."_

_I spun on my heel and marched off, back in the direction of __Mom__ Jennifer's car. Then –_

"_Jordan!"_

_I turned, not bothering to look friendly any more._

"_Come here."_

_I didn't move. If this kid thought he was going to boss me around, he was wrong. He sighed and trudged to me._

"_Where are your parents?"_

_He'd hit a nerve. "What's it to you?" I mimicked him, but immediately regretted it. "Sorry. My parents are…are…are better off without me."_

"_Come on, then."_

"_Wait." I held up my hand. I wasn't so desperate for human company that I'd go with him without even knowing his name. "First, tell me your name."_

_I could see him debating something. Then he said, "Rex," and held out his hand. I took it. My thumb brushed something that felt like…_scales_? We shook once, but then stood together in the middle of the street, two businessmen sealing a deal. _

"_I'll tell you the story as we walk," Rex said, not releasing my hand. _

"_There's a story?" I asked._

"_Yep. And once you hear it, all I can say is, feel free to flee."_

REALTIME

"Where's subject Thirty-four?" I heard a sharp voice ask. Rex opened the door and we stepped inside a lab.

"Here," Rex announced.

I looked around. There was a cluttered desk to our left. In front of us was a red haired woman. A blond girl was folded in her embrace, while a man stood nearby.

My gaze locked on the girl, and my heart stopped. She looked at us, and her expression turned into one of horror.

"Rex!" she shouted. "What are you doing here? Get out?" The "get out" sounded like a question. She clapped a hand over her mouth in terror.

"Hello, Ms. Sylvester," Rex mumbled. I could tell that we'd made a terrible mistake. The girl looked at me, and I realized that she must be Rex's friend Holly.

"Thirty-four," Ms. Sylvester said coolly, staring at Rex. "Why don't you join Twenty-three?"

The girl looked shocked, and Rex froze. I had no idea what they were talking about.

"Where is she?" the girl managed.

"She's…occupied." The woman – Ms. Sylvester – smiled happily. "We just had to make sure she was recovered from her latest injury."

The girl pulled her arm out of the man's grasp. He was looking at her with fear in his eyes.

"It's her," he choked.

Ms. Sylvester whirled on him. Then she looked at the girl.

"You," she hissed, and lunged for Holly's throat.

Rex froze.

"Someone's a good actor," Ms. Sylvester hissed in Holly's ear. "But I'm afraid your Brownie points get subtracted for your lies."

"…lies…?" Holly whispered, her voice rasping.

"You want Twenty-three," Ms. Sylvester hissed. Her perfectly manicured nails dug half-moon cuts into the back of Holly's neck. Her hands flew up and grasped her wrists. "All along, you just wanted to get your pathetic failure of a feline experiment back to your side so that you could live like homeless bums on the filthy streets of New York."

"…Rex," Holly gasped, "…help me."

Rex stood there, frozen. But Holly's voice kicked me into action. Her arms were becoming limp on Ms. Sylvester's sides, and her eyes fluttered closed. She was getting throttled to death by this Ms. Sylvester, and I had no idea why. No normal kid deserved this.

I knocked Rex over and jumped over the desk, kicking out onto Ms. Sylvester's chest. Her arms yanked off of Holly's neck, and Holly collapsed.

"Holly!" I yelled, kneeling over her. "Wake up!"

She didn't respond. I shook her, then stopped when I saw the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

"Don't touch her." Rex flew to my side and knocked my hands away from her back.

"What?" I gasped. "Who saved her from the crazy maniac scientist?"

Rex didn't answer. Instead, he blew in her ear.

Holly came awake, her eyes flying open and her breath rattling. "Rex!" she yelled, and sat, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, my God, you came and saved me!"

Rex cleared his throat.

"Well, I came, sure," he managed. "But, ah…Jordan here saved you."

"Jordan?" she asked.

"Jordan." Rex's brow knit.

"Well, who cares." She stood, almost too fast for me to see. My heart slowed with disappointment. "Rocky?"

The young man turned and looked at her. "Can we go now?" he asked quietly.

"Sure," she said. "Come on, boys."

And with that, she set off down the corridor.

**A/N: Hey, I think this is my longest chapter yet. It has something like 1,900 words or something equally insane. **

**Jordan: Hey, look. I'm in the Author's Note.**

**Me: Yeah, that's funny, because the last time I checked, you weren't the author.**

**Me: They drive me crazy. *sighs* Characters. **


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Hey. I have a new story out. It's called The Fangel Experiment, and it's The Angel Experiment from Fang's pOv. Anyway, you should check it out. Yes, you. The one staring at this screen. **

**If you look at it, tell me how you like present-tense. I'm thinking about using it more often. It's a blast to write.**

As I headed down the hall, I couldn't help but mentally smack Rex for tangling a regular kid into this mess. If Jordan didn't have some sort of mind-control power, then God help me, I'd strangle his scaly throat.

On cue, Rex hurried over to me. Jordan and Rocky trailed behind us, looking kind of terrified. Jordan's eyes were glued to us.

"Hey," Rex said in an undertone.

I didn't answer him.

"I didn't tell him about…about your wings," Rex murmured, and I felt a bit better, but still betrayed. I grunted.

"Look, Holly," he said, "he told me about it on the way here. His parents are assholes. He just wanted to get away from them, and an actual friend is just an added bonus."

"So," I muttered, "now he's your actual friend? So now you can just link arms and skip into the sunset? So now you've decided that Nifty and I aren't good enough for you?"

Rex looked pained. "You're such a hypocrite," he hissed at me. "What's with the Daddy wannabe?"

"That's Nifty's older brother," I snapped.

The blood rushed out of Rex's face, I assume, because he got about two shades lighter than his usual albino coloring. What can I say? He's cold-blooded, literally.

"What?" he mouthed.

"You heard me. And his name is Rocky, not Daddy wannabe. Now help me look for Nifty's room." I hurried ahead of Rex, not wanting to look at his face.

The fastest way to find Nifty would be to shout until someone answered. But the problem was, there was absolutely no guarantee that it would be Nifty that shouted back. It would be way more realistic to be met by a squad of armed Erasers.

I jiggled the doorknob of the door next to me. "This is hopeless," I moaned, resting my head against the door.

"Does this mean anything?" Jordan asked. He pointed at a sign on the door, which read, EIP.

"EIP is…" I knocked my head against the door. "EIP is…is Experiment in Progress! Thanks, Jordan."

He looked down and blushed. I took off a belt.

"Rocky, can you pick this one?" I asked him. He took the belt and slid it into the doorknob, jangling it around until something clicked.

"There." He handed it back to me, then reached for the knob. Before he touched it, he stopped, his hand hovering over the handle.

"Do you think she's really in there?" he asked nervously.

"Of course," I snapped.

"Holly?"

It was very faint, but it definitely came from inside the room. "Nifty!" I shouted, pressing my ear to the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," came the reply. "Come in, please. You need to meet Cory."

"Who's Cory?" I yelled.

"Come see!" she said.

"Just open the goddamn door!" Rex yelled.

I grabbed the handle and twisted. Nifty was standing facing the door, holding something in her arms. I rushed to her and flung my arms around her, expecting her to drop the thing. But she didn't.

"Careful," she murmured instead. "You're squishing Cory."

I didn't have time to ask her who Cory was again, because Rex flung his arms over us, and I sank to the floor.

"Pile-on Holly," I groaned. "Get off me, Rex."

Rex climbed off the top of the pile, grinning like a lunatic. I rolled over, giggling. Nifty dove for her little bundle, which had somehow ended up on the floor.

"What's that?" I asked once I'd caught my breath.

"Cory," she answered, a smile breaking over her face. "My baby."

She peeled back the bundle to reveal a baby boy. WHO HAD NO MOUTH.

Go back and read that last sentence again. I'm positive that only once through isn't enough.

"Oh, jeez," Rocky said from behind me. "I'm too young to be an uncle."

Nifty froze. I rescued Cory from her suddenly limp arms. She turned slowly to Rocky.

"What did you say?" she choked out. I could see her eyes taking in everything: his brown hair that was her same color; his yellowish, catlike eyes, his smooth tan skin. She glanced down at her arm, comparing the shades. They were very similar.

"I said, I'm too young to be an uncle," he whispered.

Nifty padded forward, her eyes never leaving his. "What do you mean?" she asked, stopping about a yard from him.

"I mean," he said, taking a breath, "that you're my little sister."

Her eyes narrowed. She was not one to instantly believe something like that. "How do you know?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because," he said, "when I was six, my mom gave birth to a strange little girl named Cheyenne."

Nifty gulped. She was making the connection.

"My parents were told that she died. A few months later, my parents were killed in a car crash. When Holly showed up, telling me about you, something just…clicked. I knew in my gut that it was you."

He held his arms out.

"This is for fourteen years of hugs," he said, and this time Nifty bounded straight into his arms, probably surprising him with her agility.

"Did she…did she tell you…"

"About our kitty friend?" He smiled on her shoulder. "Yes. She explained everything to me in great detail." He tightened his hold on her and closed his eyes.

"Now," he said, "explain the baby."

"Oh," said Nifty, "he's not really mine. I just kind of adopted him –"

I didn't hear the rest of the sentence, because just then the kid touched my cheek with his plump baby hand.

_-girl mommy and my mommy and new mommy and-_

I yanked away from his hand, and his face crumpled. Thank God he didn't have a mouth, or he'd be bawling up a storm.

This was so weird.

**I'm sorry. I have to get off and try to convince my sister to let me straighten her hair. Bye, now.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hey, me again. This'll probably be a short chappy, cos I don't have that much time. Sorry if it's tense. My very best friend just told me something awful that may or may not be true, and if it is, then the next year is going to be very, very, very, very difficult for everyone. So if you believe in that sort of thing please pray for her because she could really use it.**

**I just wanted to say this: m4tigers, who the hell is Brandon?**

"Okay," I said, once we'd locked the door behind us, "how are we planning to get out?"

"Walk," Rex suggested. I glared at him.

"We are not taking humans back through that subway tunnel," I said. Jordan looked at me like, _You're not a human?_ I ignored him. "Especially not Cory. He's the most likely to get sick. Besides, he lives on light. I don't think he can live that long without it."

Nifty nodded and curled her arms tighter around him. He reached up ad touched her cheek.

"He says it's like holding your breath," she explained. "You can only do it for about twenty seconds. So…" Her face twisted in thought. "Maybe there's another way out."

"Huh." We all paused to consider it. Then Rocky spoke up.

"There's a ladder out there," he said. "Maybe we could go up that way."

"Brilliant," I said. "Of course. Let's go now. Come on."

I took the lead, and Jordan fell into place at my right shoulder. I couldn't help but be a bit irritated.

"Hi," he said. He sounded shy, but his voice was surprisingly familiar. I twisted to look at him.

"I heard you on the radio," I said. Shock registered on his face. "Yeah. You sing that song that's number one. What's it called again…?"

"_Fly,"_ he said, embarrassed. "Wow. You made that connection fast."

"I heard it on the way over here," I said. "It's pretty good."

He blushed and smiled, his nose ring glinting. "Thanks, Holly."

Suddenly I was grabbed around the waist. Something pricked my arm, and my vision blacked out and I lost consciousness.

**!**

When I woke, I was in the middle of a clearing. Trees lined it, but in one direction, the grass draped over a hill and disappeared.

I sat up blearily, rubbing my eyes. I looked around. No one else was there. _What the hell_? I thought. One second, I'd been at the Institute with the gang. The next, I'd been grabbed around the waist, which had never knocked me out before. Then I remembered: something had been injected into my arm. But what? And how long had I been out?

I stood up slowly and stumbled towards the woods. Best to get out of plain sight. I would see if anyone else had been taken here. Just because they weren't in the clearing didn't mean they weren't here.

I unfolded my wings, rejoicing that they no longer twanged with pain whenever I opened them. I was glad Jordan wasn't here. I didn't trust him to begin with, and now that I knew he was a singer, I trusted him even less. I do NOT sing, and I despise anyone who does. He was not getting a load of this mess.

I ran and pushed down hard, lifting myself above the tree level. (Get it? Tree level?) The wind blew in my face, and I laughed as my hair whipped my cheeks. I could feel every single muscle in my back working to pull me away from the earth and to the sun. A white pepper-speckled feather drifted down out of sight below me.

Wait.

I squinted. In the distance, I could see a barn of sorts. It was stereotypical, big and red, and there were horses and pigs grazing around it. (Do pigs graze?) Next to the barn was a paradisic house, white with shingles and around three stories high. A small pond was in the back, and there was something in the pond.

I flew closer, then let out a gasp of surprise.

_It was the Flock._ Nudge was in the pond, and the Gasman was dive-bombing her. Max was sitting in a tree, looking at a laptop, and Angel was splashing in the shallows. Fang and Iggy were nowhere to be seen.

My blood boiled. "What are the CHANCES?" I screamed, but my words got blown away by the wind. Then I saw Total playing with Angel, and I made a decision.

I would camp out here, in the woods, and watch them. I needed to tell Fang that I was his sister. Even if he was a jerk, he still deserved to know about our mom. How she was dead. How I existed.

I flew down into the trees and soared through the woods until I got close to the house. A blond woman came out – Max's mom, maybe.

"Kids!" she called. "Lunchtime!"

"Coming, Anne," Max called back. Okay, so not Max's mom. But who, then?

Max folded up her laptop and flapped down from the tree. Then she disappeared inside. The rest of the Flock followed suit, grabbing towels and wringing out their hair.

I settled down to wait. I sure was tired, so I closed my eyes and lay back for just a second…

_Suddenly I was in the arms of a strange man. My brother was being pulled away from me. I looked into his dark eyes and saw panic: panic that was mirrored in my own. I wailed and clawed toward him, and he did the same. Our fingers touched in midair, but the man and the new man pulled us farther apart._

_I saw my mommy lying, sleeping, on the floor. I urged her to wake up and stop this madness, but she slept on. Red water flowed from a big hole in her neck. _

_I screamed loudly. My brother's new dark eyes – they'd been my color when he was born, but in just one day had gotten almost black – flickered to me. In them was a promise: we'd see each other again. He was certain of it. I was too. _

When I woke, it was dark. The lights were on inside the house, and I could see figures moving about inside. They were eating something – dinner. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in God knows how long.

Then one of the figures – Max – stood abruptly, knocking her chair back. She whirled around and stomped through a sliding glass door and into the yard. Fang followed her. He touched her shoulder and they had a long conversation. Then she leapt off the ground, spread her wings, and took to the sky.

Fang watched her for a moment. Then he spread his own dark wings and flew off in the opposite direction.

My heart hammered. _Now was my chance._ Okay, so maybe I was being a bit stalker-ish, but I didn't care. _I had to know._

I flew after him, tracking him for about half a mile. He never once realized that I was behind him, and when he landed in a tree, I landed next to him.

What I did not expect was his reaction. He jumped over to me and tackled me, causing us both to fall to the floor. Branches scraped me and I landed hard on my back, with him on top of me, grabbing my shirt. My breath was 100% knocked out of me.

"Who are you?" he whisper/yelled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I just wheezed.

"Oh," he said. "It's you. That girl from the Institute."

"The one you…kicked out," I gasped.

"Depends on how you look at it," he said.

"Can you…get…off…?" I managed.

"Right." He sat up so he was straddling me, not letting me get away. "Now, out with it."

"Okay, um…" I thought. I'd never really thought about this before, and I had no idea what to say. "It's kind of complicated."

He motioned for me to go on.

"Are you comfortable?" I mumbled sarcastically. He groaned in exasperation.

"Just relax," I said.

"That's a tall order."

"Good thing you're so tall," I said.

One of his eyebrows went up, and he motioned me onward again. "Quit stalling, um –?"

"Holly," I said. "Look, Mr. Impatient, here's the short story. I'm your sister."

His eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs. "I ain't got one," he said.

"I'm serious." I struggled to get out of his grasp, but he didn't let go. "I have the power to remember stuff from when I was a baby. I've had a dream of _being inside the womb_." Pause for effect… "With _you_. I had a dream about our mom. She didn't want to give us up, so a whitecoat shot her. We were separated so that we wouldn't know each other." I sniffed, and his scent overwhelmed me. "Can't you smell it? I recognized you the first time I saw you – or rather, I recognized your smell. Can't you see it? We look exactly alike." I thought. "Except for the eyes and hair."

His eyes roamed my face. "What did you say your name was?" he asked me.

"Holly." Did he believe me?

"I believe you."

Can he read my mind? Apparently not, because he didn't answer that one. Either that or he was just smart enough not to.

"Look," he said, "as much as I want to sit and chat, I need to get back. Can you meet me here tomorrow, same time?"

"Sure," I said.

"Great." He stood, opened his wings, and took off.

I watched him until I couldn't see him against the stars.

**Did Fang react well? Let me know!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hello. This chapter needs a max of 5 reviews before I will go on. Hey, that's only the amount of fingers you have on one hand. So come on. We're only 30 away from 100.**

**I wrote this yesterday, but just as I was about to finish it Dad comes over and says get off the computer blah blah blah. So I did, and here it is.**

**DISCLAIMER:: I AM NOT JP. OR ELSE THIS CHAPTER WOULD REALLY HAVE HAPPENED.**

That night, as I took off for our meeting spot, I felt weak. For some reason I hadn't been able to find any sort of food in the past day, and I felt like I hadn't eaten in over a month. My shoulders ached as I glided to the tree, and my stomach twisted.

When I reached the tree, Fang hadn't arrived yet. My head was pounding, and I massaged my temples with weary fingers. I was exhausted and starving and lonely.

Soon a black shape appeared. _Fang_. I kept my eyes on him, watching him fly closer. There was something in his hands, and as he grew closer I saw that it was three ham sandwiches. He lit on the tree next to me and offered me one. I took it and took a huge bite.

"So," he said.

"So," I said back, my mouth full of sandwich.

"I've been thinking," he said, and drew a breath. "I need more proof that you're my sister. I've only lived this long by not trusting everyone on their simple word. You might look just like me, but I don't believe you right away."

"Okay," I began. "I was expecting this." I wasn't really, but it just sounded cooler. "So. What sort of proof do you need?"

"Tell me about the dreams."

"Oh. The dreams. The dreams…the first one was from when we were just born. You were sleeping, and you had a navy blue blanket around you. I did too, and it was really tight. Our mom was telling the whitecoat to just take us. She was verifying that we had the right DNA. Then she asked for the money."

"What did she look like?" Fang breathed. He sounded almost…eager.

"She had dark hair, like you, and our nose." He looked at mine, comparing. "Her eyes were my color, blue, but she wore a ton of eye makeup." I paused to take another bite. My stomach growled, and I laughed a little. "She had a bunch of piercings all over her face, and she looked like she was on something at first. Like drugs or something. Her eyes were all over the place, wide and unfocused."

Fang's face closed off when I said that. I felt bad for him, but you gotta do what you gotta do. And this was also my mom we were talking about.

"Anyway, the whitecoat gave her a check, apparently for a lot of money. The he picked you up and played with your hair and asked how old we were. Mom said "Just a day.""

Fang reached up and touched the top of his head.

"Then the whitecoat said that he normally got kids when they were about an hour old. Then Mom was all like, "So I'm not allowed to spend time with my kids?" and he's like, "Nope." Then Mom says he can't have us, and he says won't your parents care. She says no they kicked me out when they found out I was preggo." I took another bite. Fang was staring at the ground, his eyes nearly shut. "Then the man puts you down and picks me up – he doesn't know how to hold a baby, obviously, because it's painful. He's not supporting my head. Then Mom argues more and he shoots her."

Fang looked up suddenly. "I remember that," he whispered. "I remember the gunshot."

"That's when I woke up," I told him, finishing the sandwich. I was still hungry, so I reached for the other one.

"Did you say there was another one?" Fang asked hungrily.

"Yeah…it's weird, though. We're in the womb. There's a bit of light in there, and I can tell that you're in there with me."

Fang looked me right in the eyes. "You really think I'm your brother," he said quietly.

"I _know_ you're my brother." Can he really not tell? Is he really not seeing himself when he looks at my face? "You gave me a hug in there," I choked. I felt like I was about to cry. "We were all curled up together, and Mom's like: Look, they love each other already. And I think…" The exact words came back to me. "I think: I wish I could answer you. I don't want to leave my brother. I feel so safe when his arms are around me. When we leave this place I want to be with him forever."

A tear ran down my cheek. I wanted so badly to love this boy, this rock, who was my brother. If only he would open his heart to me.

"It's been about a month since I've seen you," he started, but I interrupted.

"No, it's been like two days."

He gave me an odd look. "No, it's been a month."

My blood ran cold. _A month._

"Anyway," he said, "it's been a month since I saw you. But I couldn't get your face out of my head." He smiled. "Don't tell Max, of course. I don't even think Angel knows. She can read minds, you know," he said, seeing my confused look. "Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw…you. It was the strangest thing…but you're making sense."

His words pounded dully in my head. I couldn't focus. A month. I'd been out for a whole month? That wasn't possible. Then Nifty, Rex, Rocky, Jordan, Cory…where were they? Were they all right?

"Holly," he said gently. "Are you listening?"

I turned to face him, not really looking. "A whole month," I whispered. "Jesus. I've been out for a month?"

His face went still. "What?" he asked. A hint of panic crept into his voice.

"I got knocked out and woke up here yesterday," I told him. "When I got knocked out it was the day after you saved us."

Horror crept into his eyes. "That's not possible," he told me flatly.

"It is." I was frozen. Hearing the words made it seem about a thousand times worse. "I'm sorry," I said. "I need to get out of here."

Then I jumped up and flew away as fast as my wings could carry me.

**Overreacting, much? Well, maybe not.**

**Mm. I love ham sandwiches. **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Hi. If you know me personally, when you review, please tell me. Unless you know that I know it's you (EO, OC, MH) Thank you.**

"HEY!"

The tree rustled as Fang bounded off the branch after me. I whirled to face him, my blond hair whipping in front of my face. My wings beat heavily as I hovered in the air.

Fang stopped a few feet below me. He reached out and grasped my ankle. "Where are you going?"

"Away," I said curtly.

He raised his eyebrows. His bangs fell in front of his eye, but he left them there. One wide eye stared at me, challenging me.

"My friends need me," I said. "If you're right, and I've been out for a month, then they've been without me for that long. I need to get back. They're probably worrying."

His face fell, and he looked at the ground. "I was hoping that you'd stay," he said quietly.

"Someone's singing a different tune," I said angrily. I shook my ankle out of his grasp and pushed down hard, lifting myself a few more feet. "You sure didn't want that a month ago."

"There was like fifty of you then," he said exasperatedly. "And it was before I realized how much family really means to us."

"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously.

"We're trying to find our parents," Fang said. "Well…I guess our mom's dead, but…" He looked back at me. "Holly, if what you say is true about being able to remember stuff from early on, maybe you can remember about our father. About any of the rest of the Flock and where they came from."

I stared at him. I'm sure that that was the most he'd ever said in his entire life.

"I was raised at the Institute," I said finally. "I honestly don't think I can help you." I mead to fly away, but as fast as lightning, he swerved in front of me. "Please," he begged.

"No."

We alternated our wings so that when I was going forward, he was going back. He got right in my face so that our noses were almost touching. I looked right into his dark eyes, shaped exactly like my own.

"Please, Holly."

I blew myself backwards. He swooped down below me.

"No!" I yelled. "I can't, Fang. People are depending on me."

"They're more important than your own brother?" he yelled at me.

"Yes!" I spat back. Shock crossed his face. "I've known them my entire life. They've been at my side through ups and downs. While _you_ turned tail the second the going got tough."

His entire demeanor screamed betrayal.

"You should have listened to your gut instinct," I hissed. "You knew when you first saw me that I wasn't any old mutant. But you ignored it. You kicked me onto the streets."

"How do you know?" he whispered. "You left before I voted."

I froze.

"Yeah," he said, cocking his head to the side. "That's right. You _left_. So whose fault is it now, huh?"

My foot shot out and hit him in the face, splitting his lip. A trickle of blood ran down his chin.

"Leave me alone!" I yelled.

His face twisted in anger. "Oh, so that's how you want to play it?" he hissed back at me.

Then he lunged.

His arms locked around me, under my wings. He squeezed, hard, but I wasn't giving up that easily. I brought my knee up hard and sent him spinning away from me, but he used his momentum to loop around and hit me hard in the stomach. The air went out of me with an audible _oof_. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, forgetting to flap for a moment.

Fang saw his chance. He wrapped his arms against me again and flew straight for the ground at ninety miles an hour. Unfortunately, we were not ninety miles above the ground. I smashed against the forest floor, Fang smashing along with me. His entire weight fell heavily on my chest. I think one of my ribs broke, and my mouth filled with blood. Actually I wouldn't have been surprised if my entire ribcage had shattered.

"Ah," I groaned. I spit something hard into his face – a tooth.

He pushed himself up so that he was straddling me. My stomach couldn't take any more, and I vomited on him.

His expression turned to one of horror. "Oh, Holly," he whispered.

"You hurt me," I choked out. Blood ran down the side of my face. "You really hurt me. I would never hurt you, Fang, not like this."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Wait here while I get help."

He pushed himself off me and disappeared – whether in the sky or air, I couldn't tell.

All I could think was, _Stupid! Fang is a member of the _Flock_. He knows how to fight! You're just a wannabe pathetic – _

I coughed. The movement sent fire through my entire being.

_What were you _thinking_? Starting a fight with Fang? You've wanted to find him ever since you first figured it out. And then you go and do this. And then –_

I cut myself off again in horror.

_He said he was going to get help. Does that mean Max? I gotta get out of here. I can't let her see me. _

I tried to sit up, but the movement sent the rest of those ham sandwiches back up. My clothes spattered with vomit.

_Okay, that ain't happening. _

My ribcage hurt too much to pass out. I choked on my own blood, sending coughs through my entire body. I felt like I had broken more ribs. My chin was covered in blood.

Footsteps crashed through the undergrowth. Fang was back, but there was no one else with him. I thought he was getting help?

"Come on, Holly, he said. "I stole Anne's Suburban. I'm just going to take it a little way out, because I can't carry you until we get out from under the cover of trees."

"Okay," I mumbled, but it hurt like hell, so I decided to shut up. Fang put his arms over my wings and under my knees, and to my surprise, it didn't add any extra pain. He carried me gently over to a dark green Suburban, the passenger seat of which had been folded back to make a bedlike surface, which he laid me on. Then he closed the door, walked around to the driver's side, and climbed in, starting the car.

"…where…" I croaked. Each breath felt like a stab in the chest.

"We're going to the hospital where they took me," Fang said. His hands were death grip on the wheel. "I had to go when Ari tore me up."

"Ari…" I said, a wave of hatred coursing through me. "I know…him…"

"Do you," he said.

"He…killed…" I coughed, agony replacing the hatred.

Fang nodded. He turned onto the main road. I was surprised at the ease of which he turned the wheel: we couldn't have been more than fourteen. He must have had earlier experience.

Bright lights strained my eyes, and I closed them. The rumbling of the car groaned in my ears, but every tiny jostle made me bite my lip in effort to keep in the agony. Fang spun the wheel easily onto the highway, and the noise around me increased dramatically.

We drove on for a few minutes in comfortable silence. Fang really wasn't one for weak conversation. The silence was filled with heavy words, swollen and pregnant, like a drop of water about to fall from a leaf.

Then he pulled off the highway. We drove for a little while, until I couldn't see any more light through my eyelids. I opened them. We were driving along a dark street, on which most of the stores were closed. The lights of a gas station flickered dimly in the distance. We pulled into a deserted parking lot for some strip mall and parked. Fang's gaze flickered over to the glass on the storefront, and the sign advertising and Asian restaurant.

Fang reached for the latch on the door and jumped out. He slid his arms under me and pulled me into the air. A breeze stirred my hair, and it felt good.

_I feel so safe when his arms are around me_.

Then Fang spread his wings and leapt into the night.

_When we leave this place, I want to be with him forever._

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	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: EVERYONE EVERYONE ALERT ALERT BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP EVERYBODY GO BACK *RIGHT NOW* AND RE READ CHAPTER TWENTY I MADE A BUNCH OF MAJOR CHANGES SO GO BACK RIGHT NOW AND READ IT THANK YOU**

_It is very bright in the room. I close my eyes against the light, but someone pushes them back open and peers into them. I open my mouth to cry, but then I see my reflection in the man's eyes, and it startles me into silence. My mouth hangs open._

"_She's a twin?" the man asks, letting go of my face. I don't close my eyes this time; instead, I keep them open, alert and watchful._

"_Yes, sir." I twist around to see another man standing at attention, his back straight. He consults some papers in his hand. "Identical, sir."_

"_That's impossible," the man holding me snaps. "Boy and girl twins cannot be identical."_

"_I must disagree, sir," says the other man. "When there's avian DNA inside them, there's no telling what might happen."_

I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke I was not in Fang's arms anymore. I was in a clean white room, folded inside some crisp linen sheets. My side was painful and stiff, and when I bent down to look, I saw black stitches piecing me together. There were also stitches on my mouth, and put together with my cast on my arm from earlier, and the IV drip on my left hand, I probably looked positively horrendous.

"I look terrible," I moaned to myself.

"I concur," said a voice behind me, "with that assessment."

Fang was leaning on a wall, slightly behind the door, watching me. I bit in a gasp of surprise at his sudden appearance and a sigh of relief that it wasn't an Eraser at the same time.

"Hi," I managed. Every word hurt. The stitches on the side of my mouth stretched and pulled with every movement. I couldn't even imagine what smiling would feel like.

"Did I have a cut here?" I asked, fingering the thread. "'Cos I don't remember getting one." I sat up in bed.

"You had to have a lot of surgery," Fang said, loping closer. "A dentist came in, apparently."

"Apparently?" I asked.

"This was yesterday." He shrugged. "They had to put you under. You fought them." He allowed a grimace to slip past his smooth, cool mask.

"I did?" I asked. I had no memory of it.

"Let's just say that if you'd fought like that with me, you wouldn't be here." Guilt sprinted across his high cheekbones. He sat down on the ironed sheets. "I'm really sorry about that, by the way."

"It's fine," I shrugged. "I've been through worse." A shudder passed through me, and for a second I was lost in memories about what, exactly, had been worse.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to be in there for fourteen years," he said. He locked eyes with me, and I searched my – his – face for emotion. Oh, jeez, this was confusing.

"Be grateful," I told him, meeting his eyes. I ducked my head a bit, but stayed looking at him. "Girls honestly don't have it easy in there."

His gaze intensified. "How do you mean?" he asked softly. "Max never said anything."

"You guys left too soon," I said. I blushed a little bit, and looked down. "Just…a lot of tests about whether we would…give live birth or lay eggs like birds." There. I said it. Fang, you better be careful what you wish for.

Fang never looked away. I could feel his dark gaze burning into the top of my head. "What were the results?" he asked me.

I snapped up. "Why? Thinking about starting your own little flock with Maxie-poo?"

He shrugged. "Just curious, since you brought it up. Might be interesting to know. I could pass it on." He paused. "Actually, it's not like Max wants any kids. So forget it."

"You guys came at just the right time," I said. "The whitecoats wanted to experiment a bit further. They were going to…" I gulped, then came straight out with it: "They were going to make me pregnant and then find out for sure."

Horror flashed across his face like lightning. "Then we better make sure you don't go back there," he said, and I could feel him preparing for another argument. I sighed internally.

"Don't even start," I said, holding up my hand.

"Holly –"

"_No,_ Fang. I'm _not_ joining you and the Flock. I'm _not_ meeting Max, I'm _not_ living in that cozy little house, I'm _not_ getting attacked by Erasers every other hour, I'm _not_ getting slobbered up by Total every day –"

Fang held up his hand. "Wait. You know Total?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "Yeah. I was his across-the-street neighbor for years. He's a real pest, isn't he? Never stops whining, does he? Likes his coffee black? Yeah, that's him." I scratched around the IV.

"He talked before?"

I gave him a sideways glance. "Well, yeah. You don't get that impeccable vocabulary in just a day." Unfortunately.

He snorted. "Huh. Wonder why…"

"He didn't trust you at first," I explained. "He wanted to make sure. Although I bet he swallowed that little blond girl, Angel or whatever, hook, line, and sinker. She looked like the melt-in-your-mouth type."

"Are you hungry?" Fang asked, giving me a crosswise glance.

"Why?" I asked him, giving the drip another good scratch. It felt weird in my hand.

"You made three references to food in the past thirty seconds."

"Well, yeah, of course I'm hungry," I said, "I'm a winged chick."

"A winged chick," he mused. Then he stood so fast that I was afraid he'd knock over the EKG (which was fortunately not in use).

"What?" I asked him.

He'd gone pale. "I need to get out of here," he muttered, and bolted.

"Fang-?" I yelled after him. A tired-looking doctor came in, rubbing his eyes blearily.

"Ah," he said. "Miss Rose."

_Rose? _I thought, but then realized that Fang must have made up a name for me.

"Your brother Nick was in here just now. Did he tell you the news?"

"What news?" I said, rubbing my eyes.

"You had some broken ribs. We had to do a surgery on your chest to place them, because they were out of line and would have healed crookedly. We also had to do a surgery on your mouth. And we're glad to tell you that you'll be able to get the cast off your arm tomorrow."

I tried to stand, but he gently pushed me back down. "Be careful," he told me. "You need to rest up."

"Fine," I grumbled.

His expression drooped. "Miss Rose," he said, "I'm about to give you some bad news. Please prepare yourself."

I looked into his eyes. _Were they going to give me back to the whitecoats? Did I have to go back into surgery? Had the word chocolate lost meaning in this dimension?_

"You seem to have miscarried."

**I am officially in love with peanut butter lollipops and the song Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. Now everyone tell me your favorite…movie. I need 5 movies before I update. The best one will win a shout-out in the next chapter.**

**Kisses, Schne**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Hiya. No shout outs for you guys - only three reviews! I'm sick of waiting and I miss my writing. Yes I should stick with what I say. But I'm a sucker, I guess.**

**You may have noticed that I changed my screen name to TheCatWithTheHat BECAUSE dr. Seuss is a legendary author, the cat in the hat is a legendary story AND I have a perfect CatHat that is simply amazing. I just found it lying around at home. Curious, eh?**

**Nifty: I hate that hat. I need to burn it.**

**Me: What? NOOO! -clutches awesome hat protectively- you will not steal the CatHat!**

**Nifty: that hat is so emo/goth/loser-**

**Me: Hey, did you know that if you take the word Emo and add an L (like loser) you get Elmo?**

**Nifty: Don't change the subject, Schne.**

**Me: Hey, only Mr. Gartland is allowed to call me that.**

**Mr. Gartland: Hey Schne. Um...where are we, exactly?**

**Nifty: -muttering- I said, don't change the subject! –stalks away-**

**Me: Oh, hai, Mr. G. Um...would you mind reading this for me?**

**Mr. Gartland: Sure. -takes piece of paper from Schne- This is not owned by any cats, with or without hats. -Looks up- What?**

**Me: -headdesk-**

**Mr. G: She does, however, own the lyrics. Schne, this makes no sense!**

**Me: -facepalm-**

**(insert linebreaker here)**

Jordan POV

. . .And suddenly I was in a forest.

Wait, what? Hang on, that didn't even make sense in my head!

Last thing I knew, we were leaving the Institute with Rex and the weird kid without a mouth and stuff. And now, suddenly, I'm *here*? Wait, I never even blacked out! It was just I'm there and now I'm here.

Oh well, at least I wasn't pushing up daisies, I guess.

I stood and brushed off my cardigan. If it was ever dirty, then it sure as hell was now. I wondered how long I'd been knocked out for. An hour? A day? A week?

I can just imagine the publicity. Well, too bad. The publicity will have to wait. I don't care about fans right now.

All I need to do is figure out where everyone is. Maybe someone is here with me. I automatically turn around in a small, 360 degree circle, but my ankles catch each other and I go tumbling to the ground. Damn these shoes. . . I het Holly would never have done that.

Just thinking about her makes my pulse race. I spit onto the ground and stand back up, turning my thoughts to something else.

Rex hadn't really given me the full story. I knew that he didn't have parents, and if he did, they hadn't seen him since he was a baby. And at first I didn't get why. Then he shook his hair away from his face and showed me them *scales*.

That freaked me out, but he said there was something even worse. Then he told me that he had four arms. Like, total *whaaaaaat?* moment there.

I asked not to see them.

He told me that his friend who we were rescuing was a bit like a cat. Again, I did not ask for details.

He told me about his friend Holly, but he really didn't give many details. And from what I'd seen of Holly, she really seems like a normal girl. She even has *dyed hair*, which was just cool.

I hum softly to myself. It is night out, and above me, stars are shining brighter than anything I've ever seen. But no one is here.

God, I'm starving. I need food.

I start exploring into the woods. Obviously no one had been dropped out of the trees with me. But someone might have dropped out if the trees. . . somewhere else. Maybe I can find them?

I look up at the stars again.

And that's when I see it.

Something huge and black soars in front of the stars, looking a lot bigger than your average bird. What the. . . ?

My mind flashes to the flying people. The ones in the newspapers. *Was this one of them flying kids?* oh, god. I sprint in the direction it had been flying. It looks like . . . south, maybe? I follow it.

Soon, well, really soon, it is out of sight. Of course. Thanks, flying being, for leaving me stranded here. Very polite of you.

I keep running. One thing about me is that I have stamina. I dodge between trees and leap over rocks, praying that I won't twist my ankle. Then the forest melts away into just. . . country. I emerge onto a gravel road, leading off towards a lot of neon lights in the distance. I shake my head and dash down the road.

But it doesn't take long for me to get a bit tired. I wonder how long I'm going to be running for. Maybe six miles. . . ? But I can do that, easy. I just ran a 10k at home, so I should still be in shape. My shoes aren't great for running, though - they're just Vans. So I worry more about twisting my ankle than not being able to get the whole way.

And it turns out, I'm right. I finish my personal 10k, realizing that I just get to the end of the road. Now there's a whole highway sprawled before me, and even when I'm fresh, I can't run 60mph, which is the minimum speed. But I've seen people walking on the other side of the highway before. Except how do they get over there?

I eye the speeding cars, waiting for a break. My hair whips into my face, and the nose ring turns to ice. There's no break, but after a moment, a car pulls over.

There's a mom inside, with her daughter. They ask me if I want a ride. I say yes, that'd be great. They ask me where I'm headed, and I say south.

"The thing most south from here is the hospital," the mom says. "We're going there. Shall I drop you off?"

"Sure," I say, and climb into the backseat.

About five minutes into the ride I realize that this is a really bad idea. The daughter is fourteen or fifteen, my age. She might recognize me - in which case, they might call someone and paparazzi might track me down. And then, my parents would KILL ME. For running away, trashing their car, releasing a song, not getting a haircut, ect.

"HI!" says the girl. "My name is JJ. What's yours?"

"Jordan," I say without thinking. The girl's eyes get very wide.

"Oh. My. God. Oh my god! You're that guy who plays on the radio!"

"Lots of people play on the radio," I mumble into my T-shirt. Great. Just what I wanted.

"No, I mean the *Fly On* guy. Oh my god, you're even hotter in real life!"

I blush. "Oh please, you're flattering me."

"Wait-" The mom turns around. "Wait, so you *are* a famous singer?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say 'famous'-"

"Well, then, you have to sing for us!"

"I *what*?"

"You have to sing for us! Sing anything you like!"

"Sing something from your unreleased CD," says JJ. She's now turned around in the seat, her glasses reflecting the lights above us.

"I can't sing without music," I tell them.

"Don't you have and iPod?" JJ's mom asks.

"No." Never have, never will. iPods are for people who can't make their own music.

"Oh." JJ looks crestfallen.

"Who cares?" says the mom. She reaches over and turns on the stereo. "You can sing to the radio!"

Of course, *Fly On* is playing. I silently curse the radio DJ.

I clear my throat, feeling on the spot.

"Okay, um-"

I pause. It's not that I don't love to sing. I do. I'm just afraid that after the song, they might say something about how I'm missing. The announcer, I mean.

But I open my mouth.

"Leanin' on my window, I see a bright star  
And I make another wish  
That this will end up well"

I pause, letting myself get warmed up.

"But Good Mother Fortune ain't smilin on me  
Oh, no, sir, not today – oh  
Not today, not today"

There's a climax. I remember writing this. Except I wrote it longer. My way sounds better.

I slip into the chorus.

"And when this ends, girl, you better fly on  
Cause this thing is just the dusk  
And we rise, new, in the dawn.  
When this ends, girl - you hear me? - fly on  
Rise from your nest and fly on  
Promise me that you'll fly on."

Mrs. JJ has turned off the music. I don't care. I'm singing and the whole world needs to listen.

"The next day you called me up, saying that  
You wanted to talk about stuff  
Why did I answer the phone?  
You talked and talked but I didn't say a word  
Then you paused, said, "are ya there?"  
And that's when I told you-"

JJ and her mom are watching me openmouthed. JJ is completely turned around in her seat. Her mom is staring in the rearview mirror.

"When this ends, girl, you better fly on  
Cause this thing is just the dusk  
And we rise, new, in the dawn.  
When this ends, girl - you hear me? - fly on  
Rise from your nest and fly on  
Promise me that you'll fly on."

I get geared up for the next bit.

"Girl, this thing aint working  
(So take those wings and)  
Maybe we should just  
(Take these wings and)  
Fly On!  
When this ends, girl, you better fly on  
Cause this thing is just the dusk  
And we rise, new, in the dawn.  
When this ends, girl - you hear me? - fly on  
Rise from your nest and fly on  
Promise me that you'll fly on."

I finish, now feeling really self-conscious.

JJ and her mom start to clap.

"Jordan, that was good!" says the mom. "That was really good! You're really talented." She looks like she wants to hug me. I shrink back in my seat.

"Oh – look," she says, "we're here."

She pulls into the parking lot at the hospital. I jump out of the car.

"Jordan, wait!" says JJ. She pulls out a piece of paper and a pen. "Will you autograph this for me?"

I take the piece of paper and sign "Jordan S." Then I hand the paper back to her.

"Thanks!" she cries, clutching the paper to her chest. Then she and her mom head off to the women's center, and I go inside the sliding doors.

Standing at the receptionist's desk is one of those bird kids!

He's tall, and dark, and wearing a loose T-shirt. I can see a tiny bit of wing feather at the hem. He's arguing passionately with the receptionist.

"She's my _sister,_" he says. "Please let me go see her!"  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Nick, but the visiting hours are over. Rose can wait to see you until morning."

"No," he says, "she can't."

"Fine," says the receptionist, waving him through. I step up.

"Can I go too? I'm with him."

"Sure," says the guy, looking frustrated. He waves me through.

The bird kid is in the elevator. I watch the lights above the doors go up to the fourth floor. Then I press the up arrow. The elevator doors open, and I head up to the fourth floor. When I get there, I look down the hall. The kid is just vanishing out of sight around the corner. I step out of the elevator and follow him.

He reaches room 227 and steps inside. I follow him down the hall, walking casually past the door.

Sitting in a bed inside is – *Holly*?

**A/N: There she be! (Yes, I did say that, journey21. ****)**

**Nifty: Give me the hat.**

**Me: NO! –puts awesome purple and black striped CatHat on head- You will never be awesome enough to wear this hat!**

**Mr. Gartland: Where are we, Schne?**

**Me: -headdesk- -hat falls off-**

**Me: NOOO! –lunges for hat-**

**Nifty: -grabbing hat- Hahahahaha! –sprints away-**

**Me: NOOOOOOOOOOO! –runs after her-**

**Mr. Gartland: Well. I guess I might as well…-runs after us-**

**Mr. Gartland: -yelling over shoulder- REVIEEEWWWW!**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I realize that I jumped a bit forward in the last chapter…but I really don't want to have to type through Holly just lying around in the hospital. So I won't. **

**Nifty and Mr. Gartland are on an adventure through my other stories. Marilyn, do NOT get any ideas. Seriously. If you say that about me again I will chaste you in front of everyone. Again. 'Cause I thought we were friends, and friends don't say that about each other.**

**Disclaimer: Everything is mine except Holly. And Fang.**

**-sighs-…And Maximum Ride.**

**Holly POV**

I heard Fang's footsteps coming down the hall long before I saw Fang. I sat up in bed, ready to confront him about the whole miscarriage thing. He paused by the door, looking disheveled, and gave me a small smile. I grinned back.

"So." He sat on the bed, now looking a bit uncomfortable. "Did they tell you?"

"Yes." I looked him square in the eyes. He did not look back. "Did you know?"

He shifted in his seat. "Yes," he admitted. "It reminded me when you said chick. Then I remembered about the pregnancy test experiment thingy that you'd mentioned earlier. Was there a test right before we came that they might have…you know…"

I thought. "Yeah, a few days before," I said. "I was unconscious for ten hours. But, I mean, I never had morning sickness or anything. They never said anything to indicate it…so I wonder…  
"Anyway, I'm glad it's out," I finished. "We're only fourteen. That's waaaaaaay too young to be having kids."

Fang nodded and I shivered.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm cold," I said.

"You can have my jacket." He unzipped the black hoodie, but there was something wrong. Besides the fact that it didn't have any holes in it, I mean.

"But you don't have a shirt on underneath," I told him.

He shrugged. "So? We're related."

"Point taken." He passed me the hoodie, and I slipped it on over the hospital gown. My ribs throbbed. The jacket was warm and smelled like his sweat. Er.

His black wings were magnificent. I leaned forward and peered at his back where they connected to the flesh. Tiny feathers grew out of the olive skin, which was darker than my own (but then again, I'd never seen sunlight before about a month ago). They started off as a sort of downy wisp, but then became more solid and shiny as they progressed outward, growing in size and shape, until they reached the tip, where they were longer than my forearm. As in, really long.

He glanced out of the corner of his eye at me, the corner of his mouth lifting upward a little bit, as if he knew what I was thinking.

Then he froze.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, barely moving his mouth, the words barely disturbing the stagnant air in the hospital. I nodded a half centimeter down and then back up. Our eyes flicked to the doorway simultaneously.

Someone was standing there.

Or at least, someone's shoe was. I saw just the tip of a black sneaker, but when I glanced at the shiny wall across the hall from the shoe, I saw a tiny silver reflection at _his_ nose height.

Jordan.

Fang leapt to his feet, all the muscles in his back and shoulders tensing in one fluid movement. His head sank a bit into his shoulders, and his fists clenched. Flight time: .09 seconds. Amazing.

"Show yourself," he called, sounding just about as cliché as it could get. I pulled my wings in even tighter. Jordan didn't know about them now, and hopefully he wouldn't. Ever.

Jordan edged into view. He looked startled for a second, taking in Fang, me, and then the hospital room slowly. Well, maybe just slowly compared to me. Not everyone can have raptor vision.

"How did _you_ get in here?" Fang asked calmly, but his muscles were still tensed like a diver on a springboard.

"Followed you," Jordan said simply. Then he turned to me. "Holly? How'd _you_ get in here? I thought we were at the Institute?"

Fang shot me a confused look. I sighed.

"Yes, Jordan, well, that's a funny thing."

I explained how we'd been unconscious for at least a month. When I finished, Jordan got this horrified sort of look in his eye.

"A month?" he squeezed out. "That would make today…November 14?"

"Yes," I said.

"Oh no. Oh no." Jordan started flipping out. "Shoot."

"What?"

"My album was released yesterday." He looked me dead in the eye. "At least it was supposed to be. And I was supposed to hear from Peanut last week about the remix…" His brows creased. "You guys have a phone?"

Fag just looked at him. I shook my head. "No. Sorry."

"Okay, I'll go find one." He glanced at the back of his hand, where a number was written in Sharpie. "Good, still there," he muttered, soft enough that a human wouldn't be able to hear.

But we weren't human.

He left the room and we heard his footsteps tapping down the hall. When we couldn't hear them anymore, Fang turned to me and raised his eyebrow.

"He's a friend of Rex's," I said. "One of my best friends, you remember. A singer. He's got a song and everything. Plays on the radio. Of all the people…" I shook my head. "It could have been _anyone_. And it was him."

I lowered my head, staring at my knees under the blankets. My ribs twanged. My hair slid up my back with the movement, and when I raised my head to look at Fang, it bunched up around my ears.

"Why us?" I asked him. "Out of all the kids. There were a million pregnant teens, and they chose us."

Fang nodded. To my horror, my throat started aching. I blinked rapidly.

"Come on," he said. "Can you stand?"

"I don't know." I'd stood earlier today, so I was technically lying. But at that particular moment, I didn't think I could, no.

"Come on," he said again, pulling back the blankets. I gasped as cold air hit my legs, but shrugged it off. I slid my legs out of the bed and unsteadily put weight on them.

A moment later I was erect, glad that my gown wasn't open in the back.

"Let's go for a walk," Fang said.

"A walk?" Oh, no. Walking, I don't know if I could do.

He laid a hand on my newly-uncasted shoulder. "Yeah."

I pulled out my hair from under the jacket, so that it spilled down the back. It was nearly to my waist. Impractical, yes. But I rather liked it that way.

"Okay," I gave in, "fine. But _only_ because I like you."

He grinned at me, flashing his white teeth. He said:

"The doctors here all already know about my wings, so you can keep the jacket."

"Thanks."

I wobbled over to the door and leaned on the handle. Fang loped to my side, sliding an arm around my waist for support and twisting the door open for me. I leaned on his side as he stuck out his head, looking back and forth, before helping me into the hall.

My eyes were at his chin level, so I didn't bother to look at him as we set off down the white hall together. His side was warm, almost uncomfortably warm.

I'd never been this close to a person before. It was kind of strange, but I was really tired, almost too tired to notice. I yawned, my stitches pulling painfully.

"Ow."

"What?" he asked. He stretched out his left wing so that it was encasing me. The end feathers stretched like fingers over my ribcage, sealing my arm against my chest.

I looked at him, and he smiled, but kept the feathers there.

"Stitches," I mumbled. Now that I thought about it, the ones in my chest were throbbing as well. Yeah, it was painful. Yeah, I could handle it. I'd been crushed my a house, remember?

Okay, well maybe not literally. But theoretically, I had.

"You want to go back?" He stopped, and I almost tripped over my own feet. I had really big feet. I don't think I've ever mentioned that before.

…Although now that I think about it, so does Fang. Have big feet, I mean.

"Nah, I'm –" I stopped in the middle of my sentence. "Yeah," I admitted ruefully. "That would probably be a good idea."

"Okay," he said, wheeling me around, pushing his wing against my back so that I wouldn't topple over. I hated this, not being in control of my own body. It made me feel so helpless.

We started back: me tripping along like a drunk, and him loping along like a panther. It didn't take long before I started feeling like I wouldn't make it back. I started tripping more and alonging less.

I nearly fell on my face, but Fang's quick reflexes caught my chest. Unfortunately, his reflexes managed to catch my stitches.

I help back a yell, but a little "eep" escaped my lips.

"What?" he asked, setting me back on my feet for the third time in about thirty seconds. Then he noticed where his arm was.

"Oh, man, Holly, I'm sorry," he said, looking sincerely apologetic. Then, before I could say anything else, he scooped his arms under me and lifted me into the air, folding his wing back into place at the same time.

"Fang –!"

"No Fangs about it," he said, starting to walk back to my room.

I sighed against his warm, hard chest. I mean, rock hard. No pinching room there, no Dorito leftovers, nothing.

Not that I could say anything. My stomach was the same way – although it wasn't quite as visibly buff as his. It's what happens when there's no life of luxury for _you_.

He somehow managed to get the door open and laid me in my bed.

"You should get to sleep," he told me, pulling the covers up over me.

"You leaving already?" I asked, but my eyes were already closed.

"I suppose I am," he chuckled, as I was drifting off. "Goodnight, Holly."

There was a click as the door closed, and I drifted off to sleep surrounded by the familiar smell of my brother.

**Hey, sorry about the filler. I need a beta! Seven reviews til we get to 80. Let's make it seven this week. C'mon…I know you can do it…**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I know, I'm a terrible author. I'm sure ****it's a huge change from me updating once a day to this. Sorry, faithfuls. This is not a very popular story, and I've been feeling depressed. Like legit depressed, not just sad. **

**This is my Project PULL update for Friday, April 22, 2011**

**Disclaimer: JP has NOTHING to be sad about.**

**Rewind to the day Holly was kidnapped, Rex POV**

Rex stared angrily at Holly's back. He heard her discussing something with Jordan…the singer. His musical, lilting voice carried back to him, and Rex ground his teeth. Holly was _his_ best friend, and she was talking more to this random kid Rex had picked up off the flipping _street_ than she had talked to Rex in the past twenty-four hours.

The second Jordan's gaze had landed on Holly, Rex instantly regretted bringing him along. He could almost see Jordan's heart swelling, Grinch-like, to three times its old size. But not with goodness. Oh, no. Jordan was in love with his feathered friend.

That's why Rex had wanted Jordan's hand away from Holly's back. He could just see them kissing…and if Jordan tried that, and hit Holly's wings, he might get scared away sufficiently. But then Jordan had busted out the ninja moves and hit Ms. Sylvester's hand away from Holly's neck with his foot. The scene replayed over and over in Rex's head: him being frozen, and then Jordan flying out of nowhere, vaulting over Ms. Sylvester's desk, and kicking her in the chest like some kind of karate kid…it made Rex sick. The cool-ass nose ring made him even sicker. Jordan's entire attire could easily be mistaken for gay if Jordan hadn't held himself in just the right way: his shoulders slouching a bit but his head angled upward like a giraffe. A cool giraffe. A beast giraffe.

The nose ring in particular was what got his goat. What kind of guy puts an earring is his _nose?_ It flashed onto Holly's blond hair for a moment, turning the lilac streaks a blinding white. It bugged Rex that Jordan was so much taller than he was. At five-six, Rex was the shortest of their threesome; Jordan was at least six-three.

Rex was so preoccupied with his minirant that he didn't see them.

When he did, it was too late.

Two whitecoats leaped onto Holly and Jordan and stuck something into their arms – needles, it looked like. Holly and Jordan crumpled to the floor. A net fell down from the ceiling and _fwoosh_ed over them, dragging them up through the ceiling and out of sight.

Nifty opened her mouth and let out a long scream, so high-pitched and bloodcurdling that everything froze. Time slowed down and all Rex could concentrate on was this noise. It was pure fury, fear and hatred all injected into one sound. The whitecoats turned slowly on their heels and lunged for Nifty in slow motion.

Nifty snatched Cory tighter into her arms and ran, still screaming her head off, into the tunnel. Rex and Rocky followed like their pants were on fire. The whitecoats made a grab for them as they passed, but they managed to slip by.

They squeezed through the door before the whitecoats got there and heard a howl of pain. Rex looked back for a split second to see the tips of the whitecoat's fingers in the crack between the door and the wall. **(A/N: Sorry for that image…) **Rex whimpered and rushed on.

They closed the next door and braced the broken metal gate across it before the whitecoats had even opened the first door. Luckily, the lights were now on; they splashed through the tunnel as fast as they could and busted open the door into the subway. Racing up the steps, they finally emerged into the light and ran a block to the empty lot where they had last seen the flock.

As soon as they got there, Nifty broke down sobbing. Rex stared at her. The last time he'd seen her cry was when her leg was nearly cut off and she had to go into intense surgery to get it sewn back on. She cradled Cory to her chest and let the tears flow down.

Rocky approached her gingerly. "Chey – Nifty? You okay?"

"No!" she sobbed. "No, I'm not! In the past few days I've been through more than most people go through on their entire lives! First I get freed from the illegal torture lab, then I get recaptured, then I get my hands melted off, then I get Cory, then I get freed again, and _then_ my best friend gets captured and maybe…maybe…" She stopped and drew a great shuddering breath, and seemed unable to go on.

Rex's blood turned to ice. "…Killed," he murmured. It had just occurred to him. _Holly could be dead._ And if she was, it was _his_ fault for not seeing it sooner. For not seeing the whitecoats sooner.

He stood. Time to take control.

"Okay," he announced. "We need to get out of here pronto. It won't be long before the whitecoats get out of there, and when they do, they'll come straight for us. I think we should head for –" He stopped. He had no idea where they should go.

"Come with me," Rocky said. "I can take you somewhere. I have a car, it's around the corner that way." He pointed in the opposite direction of the subway entrance. "You game?"

Rex was not game. He didn't like outsiders. He trusted no one to come in and mess up their dynamic, because he and the girls related well to each other. He needed some time to think.

Of course, though, Nifty sprang right up. "Of course," she said, her eyes blotched. She sounded like she'd do anything at that point. Rex glared at the baby boy in her arms. Cory was messing up their dynamic as well. There was also the small problem that their third half was missing.

"Alrighty then," Rocky said, turning without letting Rex answer the question. Nifty walked after him, her Converse crunching over the gravel. Rex dragged himself after them. All he wanted was to try to find Holly, and that did not include hiding out at some guy's little pillow fort.

All Rex really wanted to do was scream and run around and maybe grow a few more arms. But he wearily dragged his feet along the gravel and down the alley after Nifty, Rocky and Cory. Then he stopped.

Rocky had his arm around Nifty's shoulder, and Cory's head was sticking over Nifty's elbow.

They looked like a family.

**!**

"A _human?_"

The assistant bowed stiffly. "Yessir," he said bravely.

"You brought us a human?" the commander screamed in the assistant's face, spittle spraying his face. The assistant didn't even flinch.

"Well, we meant to get the one with the lizard and octopus DNA," said the assistant, trembling a little bit. "But there was a human walking with subject Seventeen. We weren't expecting that – and our informant got knocked out –"

"BY THE HUMAN!" the commander shrieked.

"Well, yes," said the assistant. He glanced over to where the two subjects were lying strapped to their beds, and the blue sky out the helicopter window. Both subjects were breathing shallowly, and other than a few rope burns on their bodies from the net, and a clear IV in each of their hands, they were unscathed.

"And…this human…" The commander walked over to the boy. "He is how old?"

"Fifteen, sir." The assistant bowed. "Um, sir…may I ask you to please not kill him? It's just that…"

"YES?" the commander barked.

"My daughter would be very upset."

The commander whirled. "Your _daughter_? But your daughter's sixteen! She doesn't know this boy! Are they dating or something?" he added suspiciously.

"No…she's a big fan of his music…" The assistant eyed the helicopter window as though he was contemplating jumping out of it. "His new album is coming out in a few weeks, and she was looking forward to getting it…also, we spent about a hundred dollars on tickets for her and her friends to go see him in concert on Christmas…"

"A SINGER?" the commander shrieked. "This is a SINGER? Is he very famous?"

"Not famous enough that we could get a ransom, sir," said the assistant.

"Dammit." The commander looked down and then snapped his fingers. "Tomorrow you will bring me a recording of his music. We'll see how good this boy is…as for the girl…" He leered. "Be careful with her, she's with child."

"She's –" The assistant stopped short. "But she's only fourteen!" he sputtered, then clamped a ham-like hand over his mouth. "Yessir," he said instead.

"Yes…the scientists were testing how her body would react to the pregnancy, seeing as she's only half mammal – that is, if there would be a live birth or if she would lay eggs. They think the latter, because she doesn't get her menstrual cycle. But…" He shrugged. "It could be that they're wrong."

"Are we taking her back to the Institute for Higher Living?" the assistant choked out.

"No, man! We don't deliver goods. We're to drop them off in Virginia near Anne Walker's land. Hopefully she'll make contact with her brother. She knows it's him, right?"

"We think so, sir," said the assistant. "At least, we know she got the dreams. Jeb's talent for her kicked in – although why he would take interest in _this_ girl…I don't know…" The assistant sighed. "Maybe because she's_ his_ twin sister – they do look extraordinarily alike, do they not?"

"Yes. It's very, very rare."

"Yes."

They stood in silence for a moment. Then the commander jumped to his feet.

"WHY IS THAT DRUG ENTERING THEIR BLOODSTREAM?" he shouted. He ripped the IV's out of their hands. "THEY'RE GOING TO BE UNCONSCIOUS FOR AT LEAST A MONTH!"

The drug dribbled out of the end of the IV and onto the carpeted floor. The commander turned toward the assistant with a murderous look in his eye.

The assistant stumbled backward and fell. The commander pounced and shoved the IV into his upper arm, and blackness crumbled away at his vision and he fell into darkness.

**Ta da. –deadpans- please review. please.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Hey. I'm probably going to just stop writing soon. No one's reading this story anymore. So if no one tells me I shouldn't stop, then I will, even though it was just getting good. **

**!**

Holly POV

When I woke up the next morning, it was to a shaking sensation. A nurse was standing over me with a thermometer clutched in her hand.

"Here ya are, hun," she drawled in a Southern accent. When I opened my mouth to ask her what the H was going on, she jabbed the pointy metal thing under my tongue. It tasted terrible.

"Jist fer a second, then it'll come out," she reassured me. But it wasn't till 60 seconds that she finally grasped the end, glanced at it, scribbled something down, and then left.

I settled back into my covers. Judging by the time, it was around six o'clock, making me at about five hours of sleep. I was exhausted, so I curled back up and drifted off again.

Probably around nine thirty I woke up again. I yawned, the black stitches on my mouth stretching painfully, and rubbed my eyes blearily. Then I gave a small yelp; Jordan was sitting in the visiting chair.

"Hey, Holly," he said.

"Jordan." It hurt to talk, so I didn't say much. Instead, I concentrated on my fingers, worrying small kinks into the hem of the comforter.

"Have you seen anyone else?" he asked me, leaning forward. "I mean, Rex or Nifty or them. And who was that other guy who was here last night?"

"Okay. Firstly, no. I haven't seen anyone except you. And secondly, that guy was my twin brother. He was making a family visit. Why were you here last night?"

"I saw him flying," Jordan said. "And I followed him here. Then I went up with him and saw y'all. Then I called Peanut, and he agreed to meet me here next week."

I didn't ask who Peanut was. Probably the guy who was rapping in his remix or whatever, but Peanut didn't sound very manly to me. Sounded more cute. Well, maybe Peanut was a Bieber-rapper.

"But wait a second..." Jordan said slowly. "If your twin brother has wings, then shouldn't you have them too?"

"We're not exactly alike," I said evasively.

Jordan frowned. Then he shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "I won't pry."

But it sounded like prying was exactly what he wanted to do. His dark chocolate eyes bored into my ice blue ones. I saw my reflection in them - warped looking, with my nose and the center and the rest if my face curving away like a crystal ball. No to mention the Frankenstein stitches. I shuddered and dropped my gaze to his ski-jump nose.

"Look, Holly," he said. "I can understand why you wouldn't want to trust anyone. From what Rex told me, you didn't exactly grow up with that many trustworthy people. But you can trust me. I swear to God."

He looked so solemn that I almost managed to bite back my smart remark. Almost.

"Hey, that's cool," I said. "Unfortunately, I don't believe in God. Sorry."

Jordan groaned. "It's a figure of speech, Holly," he said. "I don't know why you're acting like this. Why you don't trust me. I haven't done anything to you to make me untrustworthy."

"Yes, but you haven't exactly been trustworthy either," I insisted, but an image rose, unbidden, to my mind. Ms. Sylvester's hands closing tight around my windpipe, then the sudden force of a Vans sneaker slamming into her chest, hair whipping through the air, and crashing as his hand hit the iMac and knocked it to the ground. Rex telling me that it was actually Jordan who had saved me, and not him.

Jordan was looking at the ground, his head bowed, his whole body leaning forward and his hands clasped over his knees. His long hair covered his face entirely. "Really," he said quietly. He looked up, his thick bangs nearly covering his eyes. "Cause I guess that saving someone from being strangled doesn't count as being trustworthy."

I fidgeted. "Well, it's not that, it's more of -"

"See, I always thought that saving someone's life made you automatically trustworthy," Jordan said loudly. He swished his hair out of his eyes. "Maybe it's just me, though."

"Jordan, listen-"

"No, you listen. I saved your damn life from that evil lady. I've been totally honest with you and you continue to lie to me! We're in this together, Holly. We're the only ones left. Now you're in the (censored)ing hospital and I'm considered a missing person by the law. We need to figure this out and you need to accept that we're (censored)ing working together."

I gaped at him. Not so much because of the swearing (which I have helpfully edited out for you), but because of his nice little speech.

I paused.

"Okay, maybe you have a point," I admitted, something that I assure you I do not do often. "We do need to work together. Maybe Fang can help us too."

Jordan frowned. "Fang?"

"My brother."

"His name is Fang?" Jordan sounded a little incredulous.

"We named ourselves," I said, a little defensively.

"And you picked Holly," he mused. Then he looked at me quizzically. "But who's we?"

"Me, Rex, and Nifty," I said. "And the flock." Seeing his raised eyebrows, I added, "Fang, Max, Iggy, Nudge, The Gasman, and Angel…The flying kids."

Jordan stared at me, mouthing the words 'The Gasman'. Then he shook his head. "I'm not even going to ask."

"That's probably a good idea," I said solemnly. He looked me straight in the eye and brushed his hair away from his ears. Caught by the sudden movement, I looked at his ear for the first time and then stared openly.

"What?" he said defensively.

"N-nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. He had his cartilage pierced in two places, and was wearing one of those earrings that are basically a bar with metal balls on the ends that went through both of his piercings. He also had a tiny loop in his lobe. This was, I realized, on both ears.

"Cool earrings," I said eventually.

He grinned. "Oh, that's what you're looking at? Yeah. I just got the top ones – I hope nothing happened to them when I was out…" He felt the bar with his fingers. "No, it's cool. Wanna see something else?" he asked, leering at me.

"Sure," I said, curiosity getting the better of me.

He flipped his bangs to the side. A tiny bar was embedded in his eyebrow.

"Cool, no?" he grinned.

"Yeah..." I murmured. This changed my whole perspective on Jordan. I thought he was just some shy little singer guy, but now he seemed dangerous. Really dangerous. I was glad when he let his silky brown hair flop back into place.

"How'd you manage to get your parents to let you have those?" I asked him.

His smile slipped off his face like melted butter. "I didn't," he said. "That's why my hair is long. I didn't want them to know about it. They _couldn't_ know about it."

He got up. "I'll be right back…" he said, and walked out.

**Dad's yelling at me to get off, so I'll post this chapter and head to bed. :P**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Well, it took 25 chapters, but we've finally made it to 100 reviews. I hate it when people are just feeling lazy and don't review. I could be lazy and just stop updating. But I don't…Er.**

**I know, I'm a crappy updater. I will try to do the Beta stuff this time. Promise. Y'all convinced me to keep updating this, and hopefully this time something will happen. Ha ha.**

**Fact: I am writing the tune to **_**Fly On**_**. You know, Jordan's song. If I get it finished, I might record it and upload it to YouTube, and then y'all can listen to it.**

**Hey Mama, I Really Need To Get Me One Of These Things: DisssClaima'! I do not own Maximum Ride or Tangled. But I do own my frying pan.**

**!**

After some rigorous physical therapy, when I was back in my room, Fang came to visit me again.

I was curled up in his jacket, almost asleep. My eyes were at half-mast, the bright lights spiking abstractly, when I heard the exact shuffle of Fang's black boots on the hallway. I opened my eyes all the way, but stayed lying down when he poked his head in.

"I don't expect you to come every night," I informed him once we'd greeted each other.

His mouth quirked upward. "Well, I don't always do what people expect. You realize that there is the small fact that I like you a little bit."

"Just a little," I teased.

"That's right." He smiled. "So, I had an idea for something for us to do tonight. If you're not too tired, that is."

"Okay…" I said, instantly wary. "Well, I guess it depends on what the thing is. Any hints?" I glared at him, hoping to squeeze something out of him. But he just chuckled.

"Nope. But I hope you don't have any plans for tomorrow – you're getting out of here."

A sudden image of Jordan – the new, scary Jordan – flashed through my brain. I froze for a moment, my brain going at a million miles an hour, and I felt like Fang and Jordan each had a hold of one of my arms and was dragging me in opposite directions.

"Ookay…" Fang said. "Is it good or bad that this announcement was not met with confetti and noisemakers?"

"What announcement?"

DAMMIT. Jordan poked his head around the corner. His hair was swept back, and his multiple piercings glistened dully. Fang looked at him without batting an eyelash.

"I don't recall inviting you," he said in a deadpan voice.

"Fang!" I hissed, tugging his arm. I knew that Fang could crush a human like Jordan like and eggshell. But honestly? I had no idea how good of a fighter Jordan was. And in the past few hours, when it came to Jordan, I really didn't know anything anymore.

"Oh. Well, do I really need an invite? I mean, this isn't exactly a party. You yourself commented on the lack of confetti and noisemakers." Jordan raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, Mr. Swiss Face," Fang said, "Holly's my goddamn sister. Not yours. And she is _not_ your girlfriend. No matter how much you wish she was."

Jordan flamed bright red. He swallowed. "Well, thank you for your opinion," he said formally. But he didn't turn around and walk out. Instead, he walked in and sat down in the cushy green chair.

Fang's back muscles hunched up, and his fists clenched. I put my palm on his shoulder, and he relaxed. But he sent Jordan a death glare when he thought I wasn't looking.

He pulled a folder out of his jacket. "Anyways, I found this," he said, giving me the folder. I opened it. Inside there were a bunch of papers. "I found this online when I was working on my blog. It has a bunch of information about various drugs and stuff they use to knock people out. This is a very common one; it's called Versed. They use it for surgeries, and it's only supposed to work for a few hours, but look at this."

Gently he pushed up the sleeve on my left arm. My bicep was littered with tiny raised bumps. Injection…thingies. I'd had enough of them to know what they looked like. But this was different. It looked like someone had been making an effort to keep me under for a long time. At least a month.

I pushed Fang's hand aside and ran my hand over it. It felt extremely weird. Then I grabbed Jordan, pulled up his sleeve, and was met with the same sight.

Jordan stared in horror at his arm. He pulled his sleeve up higher so he could see better, and his stormy blue eyes widened. I sighed internally. So innocent.

"So what does this mean?" I asked Fang quietly, soft enough that Jordan couldn't hear.

"Someone's trying to use you," he breathed. "There's a reason they didn't give you back to the Sch- the Institute. There's always a method to their madness. _I just need to figure out why._"

I swallowed. You know that game that smart people play, the one where it's a board that looks like checkers but it's not, and the pieces that are all like European, and you line up all the bits in two lines in a confusing order that I honestly can't imagine how anyone can remember it, and in the front row are those little crouched over guys that I can never remember their names? Yeah, I felt like one of those.

Fang's obsidian eyes bored into mine. "I need to figure out why someone would do something like this," he breathed, his spicy breath washing over my face. "I'll figure this out if it kills me. Got that?"

I nodded, but I still had the feeling that someone was about to pick me up and move me directly into the path of a bigger snotty European genius smart guy.

"Anyway." Fang stood, gathering up the limp papers in my relaxed hand. He stretched. "I've gotten approximately ten hours of sleep in the past three days. I should probably get home – I mean, back to Anne's."

I nodded, then paused as he left the room. "Fang!" I called, but he closed the door before it got out of my mouth.

I swung out of bed, uncomfortably aware of how much bare leg I was showing. I wrenched open the door and hurried down the hall after Fang, my bare feet slapping the floor. My hair was all bunched up under my ears again, so I pulled it out from under his jacket and released it down my back.

Fang turned slowly. His T-shirt clung to his chest, and after sizing him up for just a second, I gave him a big hug.

He stiffened. Just as I'd imagined, it was like hitting a rock.

"What?" he asked. He sounded a bit irritated. Well, hugging wasn't really his thing.

"I just wanted to say thanks." I looked up at him. "You really helped me out with this whole…knocked out thing."

The door opened behind us and Jordan looked out. I lowered my voice so that he couldn't hear.

"And if it wasn't for you, I'd be pregnant right now," I whispered into his ear. "So actually, these circumstances are good. In a rather roundabout way."

Fang's head jerked back. "These circumstances are not good," he told me angrily. "There's nothing good about me hurting you."

He gently pulled himself away from me.

"See you, Holls," he said lightly, turning and walking away down the corridor.

I heard Jordan's footsteps, heavy and clumsy, come up behind me long after Fang had left. I was still standing in the corridor, staring after him.

"Let's get you back," he told me, putting his arm around my waist. I leaned against his shoulder and we walked back.

**Okay. Mom and Brynn are watching **_**My Big Fat Greek Wedding. **_**I think I'll join them.**

**Bye! Βλέπω ότι έχετε αργότερα!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Όποιοςμπορεί ναμεταφραστεί αυτήγίνεταιδωρεάναγκαλιές καιμπισκότοκαι τομπέικοναπόμένα! Επιτρέψτε μου να ξέρωαν τοπάρετεκαι να μου στείλειμια αξιολόγηση.  
Το χειρότερο: ΔενδικήβόλταΜέγιστο. Τ-Τ**

There was a strange feeling in the air that night.

Jordan was already in the room when Fang arrived. We'd been talking about his new CD – because of his disappearance, the release of the album had been pushed back a month. Since he hadn't been around to design or approve a cover, he needed one. Bad.

As soon as he said that, I got a funny little feeling in my stomach. The same little funny feeling I'd gotten the first time I'd heard his song. The same funny feeling I'd gotten the first time his stormy eyes had locked with mine. The same funny feeling I'd gotten when I figured out that he'd been the one singing that funny little song. And the same funny feeling I'd gotten when – okay, I'll admit it – I looked up the lyrics to the song that afternoon.

I'm sorry! I couldn't help it! Okay, so the lyrics had been a little lame, but combined with the tune, it made me feel really weird. But don't get any ideas! I still don't trust him. And, fine…it's just because he's a singer. But I don't trust singers. All one of them that I've met.

ANYWAY, he asked me if I wanted to pose for the cover of his album. I was sitting in shock when Fang walked in.

"_What did you just say?" _Fang hissed.

"I asked Holly if she wanted to be on the cover of my CD," Jordan responded calmly. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that she needed permission?" It ended as a question.

Fang ground his teeth. "Holly can't be doing stuff like CD covers that will probably be seen by thousands of people. She's a –"

"Shut up, Fang!" I yelled, cutting him off. I shook my head almost imperceptibly and murmured quiet enough that Jordan couldn't hear, "He doesn't know, turd ass."

Fang struggled, but then a quirky smile broke through his scowl, and then he was laughing. He leaned his head back and laughed _really_ hard. I stared at him, imitating Jordan. Then we glanced slowly at each other and then back at Fang like some sort of black-and-white comedy.

Then suddenly he froze, cocking his head to the side abruptly. "Angel," he murmured. "I'll be back, guys. Max is looking for me."

Then, instead of running for the door, he sprinted to the window, forcing it open and diving out. A moment later, I saw him flying back up and away from the hospital at about a hundred miles an hour.

"Wait – what just happened?" Jordan asked curiously. "What's Angel?"

"Who," I corrected. "Angel's a six-year-old girl, one of the Flock. She has the power to read and control minds, and also to send telepathic messages. I'm guessing she just sent Fang a message saying that Max was on the hunt. Max is the leader," I added, muttering under my breath a few other things I could say about her. For some reason, I just did not like that girl.

Jordan let out a big breath.

"It just keeps getting weirder," he said faintly. "Next you'll be telling me that _you_ have wings!"

I laughed nervously. "You want to go outside?" I asked abruptly, changing the subject with skill.

"Sure," said Jordan. "Will your nurses let you?"

"Screw them." I flipped back the covers and swung out of bed, slipping on Fang's black jacket again, with the huge slits in the back. Useful for him, but suspicious for me. I walked across the room and held the door open for Jordan, pulling my hair off of my back as I did so. He followed unsurely, stepping out into the hall and then pausing while I closed the door and walked after him.

The walk down to the elevator was silent. And very awkward. But once we got into the elevator, Jordan started scrutinizing my face.

"What?" I asked him.

"It's so weird," Jordan murmured. "You and your brother are really identical. I thought that was impossible. But I guess…" He shrugged, grinned, opened his mouth, and sang, _"Anything is possible if you only just believe!"_

Luckily, we arrived at our floor just then, saving me from staring at him openmouthed, 'cause his voice was just amazing. We walked across the lobby sneakily, hoping to avoid the eye of the receptionist. She appeared to be sleeping.

Once we made it outside, I stared up at the trees. Tall and dark, they reminded me a little of my brother. Standing at the edge of the parking lot, they were silent and only buffeted by the strongest of winds. I laughed to myself. _Yep, that's Fang._

Jordan and I traipsed across the parking lot. My hair swung behind me, and we laughed at some stupid thing he said. The trees loomed closer until they enveloped us.

I leaned against one of the pines, crossing my arms and grinning. Jordan rested his hand just above my head and smiled at me.

My arms fell limp at my sides suddenly, and the smile slid off my face as I absorbed the vibe. Jordan's face grew serious as well. My palms pressed hard against the trunk of the tree, and I instantly became aware of every little irritation on my body: the feeling of a hundred tiny pieces of bark pressing my palms and fingertips, the strain of keeping my wings pulled in, the constant itch of the black stitches on the side of my mouth and cheek, sprawling across my ribcage, the tug of my hair, stuck between my rear and the tree, Jordan's hot, sweet breath on my face, the pull of two or three strands of hair stuck under his palm, his stormy blue eye staring me down.

The feel of his singing lips on mine.

His cool hand on my waist.

My vision disappearing as my eyes closed.

The snap as a huge branch above our heads broke.

"Sorry, lovebirds," said a melodious voice, "but I'm gonna have to break it up now. There's a strict rule about PDA at the Institute."

In that one second, Jordan was gone. My eyes snapped open to see his Vans sneaker connecting with the huge, hairy chest of an Eraser. It was immediately followed by his rock-hard fist swinging at the Eraser's jaw. The Eraser's head snapped back and he roared and fell to his knees. Jordan catapulted over his head, spun 180 degrees, and shoved the Eraser's face into the dirt.

Another Eraser emerged from the shadows, grinning. Ten or twelve detached themselves from the trees around us, also grinning. Jordan backed up into me. Then I got an idea.

Securing my arms around his waist, I pushed myself slightly off of the tree. Soundlessly, I unfurled my wings.

"When I say jump, jump," I murmured in Jordan's ear. He nodded, not quite knowing what to say.

I tensed, and then my wing erupted with pain. An Eraser grabbed a fistful of feathers and hair at the same time, yanking my head back and my wing over until I screamed at the top of my voice. Jordan twisted around when my nails dug into his stomach and then stared in horror at my position.

"I'm sorry," I gurgled, my eyes rolling as far down as they could go to look at him.

"Oh, no, you don't," the Eraser snarled, forcing my wing upward. I screamed again. Jordan didn't think about his next move, obviously – he jumped the Eraser, bowling him over. Unfortunately for me, he didn't let go of my wing, and he pulled me down with him.

Right away, something pricked my arm – and I was blown under.

**!**

I woke still groggy.

Without opening my eyes, I took a huge breath in. The familiar smell of antiseptic fish tank cleaning stuff filled my nose. The familiar feel of thin metal wires criss-crossing chafed my arms and my body. The familiar metallic taste in my mouth made me want to gag. The familiar squeaking of old, pressured wheels and stirring of barely-alive life forms bounced off the walls. And the familiar black dread of lifelessness lapped at my heart.

I sat up slowly. My head bumped the top of my crate, and I cringed and rubbed the top of it angrily, shooting out a few swear words under my breath.

My ribs were killing me. I shot a quick glance at my stomach and saw that the black stitches were still criss-crossing over my chest. So I must not have been out for too long, at least.

I tried to move my wing, and pain resonated within it. I winced and reached back to angle it into my lap so that I could have a good look. It was stained and stiff with dried blood. I hooked it under my arm and sat back, thinking hard.

So I was back at the Institute. Damn. I needed to get out, and fast. Nifty, Rex and the others were waiting. And Jordan…I closed my eyes. Okay, so my first kiss had been _totally_ ruined, and those Erasers were going to _pay_. But first of all, I needed to make sure he was safe – he was just a human, after all. And then I needed to make sure _I_ was safe.

Just then, Ms. Sylvester appeared at the end of the hall, her white lab coat swaying a little bit. Her eyes flashed when she saw me, and her hands clenched like she wanted to wrap them around my neck again. Just thinking about that made me think about Jordan again. How he'd saved me.

Ms. Sylvester crouched by my crate, resting her fingers on the top. I wanted to break them slowly, one by one. She looked right in my eyes.

"We have your boyfriend," she said slowly, enunciating every word, every consonant. "And if you don't do exactly what we say, he will be exterminated."

**Da da da da da! REVIEW! I want 5. I swear, I will not write another chapter until I have every single one.**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Due to haters, I'm gonna twist up the plot a little bit. I realize that what I did**_**was**_**kind of weird…so I'm changing it back.**

**Terrorists Stole My Pants: Here's why I don't update every day: Um, I have a life. Sorry to be so crude, but it's true. And also, I share the computer with my sister, my mom, and my dad, who works from home. Long story there. But anyway, I get about 3 hours a day on it to do everything I need to like email and FanFiction – that includes beta work, author work, and just plain old reading. So yeah.**

**Just to let you know, I was happily typing along when my computer died with my nearly 2,000 words unsaved to the hard drive. When I restarted it, I had an innocent 35 words staring back at me. I started crying.**

**Disclaimer: Me no own.**

I couldn't help it. Really, I didn't mean to burst out laughing. It just kind of bubbled out of my mouth and floated into Ms. Sylvester's incredulous ears.

"What?" she snapped. "You want him to be killed?"

"We're not dating!" I giggled. Just the word "dating" made me laugh harder.

She knit her eyebrows. "Then the reports of you two –"

I closed my eyes. It – the kiss – flowed back into my memory. My first, you know. "I'm not denying what happened," I said, not looking at her. "It was a mistake. I let him do it. And now I regret it." Then something registered in my brain. "Wait – you were WATCHING?"

"Of course," said Ms. Sylvester, irritated. "We were watching from the moment you left the hospital and your brother started following you, and made ourselves known as soon as he left."

My breath left my body in a _whoosh. "What did you do with Fang?"_ I hissed.

She laughed lightly. "Oh, we're not authorized to take him," she said, glad she'd managed to provoke me. "He looked so angry when he left, I'm glad we're not authorized to take him. And one more thing, Seventeen," she said, pushing herself up, "I'd like you to know that you've said exactly what we anticipated you to in this conversation. We decided to do a little experiment on you to see what you would say if I talked to you in this way. And you reacted exactly how we expected. Just thought you might want to know how predictable you are."

"Go to hell!" I shouted at her retreating back. "Was that in your precious script?"

She was back at my side in a flash. "It would do you good to remember that we have Jordan Seymour in our hands," she hissed through the bars. "Anything you say is a liability on him. And it would also benefit you to remember that I am authorized to kill you."

She was gone.

**!**

-trees. big trees. many trees. mommy and rocky and rex. blue sky. cory in mommy arms. cory smile in mommy head. mommy stop moving when cory hand hit her eye. picture in cory head. girl in cory head. long yellow head. big blue eye. (cory eye better…) cory falling. rocky catch cory. mommy loud noise. mommy on knees. mommy on belly. rex loud noise. rocky loud noise. rex on knees. rex hand on mommy back. rex shake hand. mommy shake. rex hand gone. mommy still shake. mommy face wet. mommy silent. everybody silent.-

**!**

When I wake, I'm strapped to a bed.

Panic surges through me, and I thrash. Or attempt to. A thick Velcro strap holds down my chest. My wrists and ankles are bound as well, my palms face up, my jeans cinched tightly. My T-shirt and jacket are gone, but my necklace with my sister's dog tags is still there, and so are my jeans and sneakers.

I attempt to sit up and fail miserably – the strap is too tight. My head flops down and my eyes close. I breathe deeply, trying to mount the panic and bring it under control. It feels like I'm trying to surf on a tsunami.

Without any warning, something solid connects with my cheekbone. My head flips over to the side and my breath flies out of my mouth in a gasp.

"That's for what you did to her," someone growls, and then the solid thing connects with my nose. With a loud _crack_, blood breaks free and cascades down my face. My eyes fly open to see a man standing in front of me, examining his fist.

"So was that," he adds. He's wearing a long white lab coat and pastel blue scrubs. He has a shiny bald head and shiny gold glasses. Blood splatters his dark brown hands, glistening as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

"Jones wanted me to get some blood from you," he laughs, "but he didn't specify how." He smirks at me, his nametag flashing MR. SMITH in my dazed eyes. He turns on his heel and glides out of the room, his lab coat swishing back and forth behind him.

Blood flows down my throat, and I raise my head and wipe my mouth on my bare shoulder, smearing blood there as well. I keep my head lifted as I take in my surroundings. I exhale as I realize.

"Oh, shit."

So what were they planning to do with me? I glanced down at my stomach for the first time, watching my muscles clench, and notice the black stitches closing up my abdomen. So whatever they were planning to do, I guess they'd done it already. I really hope that they weren't planning on infusing me with squirrel DNA or shit like that. Speaking of which…

So Holly has wings. I'll admit I didn't see that one coming, but I suppose it makes sense. The way Rex never wanted me to even brush her back on accident. The way she'd always get really quiet and nervous whenever I'd mention how weird it was that her brother had wings and she didn't. How she was always wearing her brother's black jacket with the convenient slits stabbed in the back.

I'm interrupted from my reverie by Mr. Smith. He glides back in the room with a glass vial in his big hand. "I didn't get enough last time, so Jones made me come back and get more," he grumbles.

I tense up and wait for him to break more bones, but he just places the vial under my still gushing nose. He takes it away before I get to see how much he put in and then departs. "I'll send in someone to fix your nose," he calls, before shutting the door behind him.

My nose stings. Badly. I've had a broken nose before. It's what happens when you've been taking martial arts since the age of three. But I've never been in a situation where I couldn't set it. If it didn't get set soon, I'll have to re-break it, and I really don't want to do that.

I cough and wipe my face on my other shoulder. My hair is getting stuck in it, but at least the blood is slowing down. I lay my head down on the hard table and close my eyes, remembering.

I really wish those wolf guys – Erasers, Rex called them – hadn't come when they did. But in a way, I'd really glad they did. I mean, who knows what might have happened if they didn't? I shiver, and not just because I was freezing cold.

The door opens again, steering me out of thoughts I'm not sure were going to be PG for very much longer. A woman comes in, also in a lab coat. She eyes me, her gaze flicking over my exposed chest, before looking at my face. I sigh and close my eyes.

She pulls a stool over next to my bedside table and opened her first-aid kit. I open my eyes and eye her apprehensively. "What are you going to do?" I ask her.

"Clean you up, and then set your nose," she informs me. Her voice is raspy, like she's been smoking. Her brown hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she has perfect bangs ending just above her eyebrows. She has small, pastel yellow-framed glasses, and she looks young – only about 25 or something. She opens up a compartment and gets out some cotton balls and rubbing alcohol, then moves my hair out of my face and freezes, her gaze flicking up and down from my eyebrows to my ears. I smirk.

"What?" I ask.

She cleared her throat. "Nothing," she mutters, dropping her gaze and pushing the cotton ball onto my face a little harder than necessary. I gasp as alcohol trickles down my chin and onto my neck. "Watch it!" I yell.

"It would help if you would stop shaking!" she yells back.

"I'm not shaking!" But as soon as she says it, I realize she's right. "I've been tied down for a long time," I say. "Without moving. That's probably why."

"If I untie you, will you promise to stay here?" she asks me uncertainly.

"Of course." NOT! But she believes me. Her fingers peel up the chest strap first, hesitantly; then she does my feet. Finally she unpeels the wrist ones, and I'm up in a flash. I book it out of there.

"SEYMOUR! GET BACK HERE!" she yells after me. But I'm long gone. I dash madly around the corners until I make it to the big warehouse room with the rows of crates, spying Holly lying shaking in the corner.

I sprint to her crate and unlatch it with shaking fingers. She sits up quickly; taking in my bloody face and shoulders, and the stitches on my stomach. "What happened?" she asks.

"No time," I pant. "Let's go!"

She grabs my hand, and we tear away.

**Ok…you know the drill…REVIEW! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease! I want 10!**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Ok, so I went on vacation, but now I'm back. I wrote this while I was up there, but I didn't have wi-fi, so I couldn't post it. Oops...**

**So I started a sequel that kind of combines this story and Please Forgive Me. If anyone's interested, just let me know. And check out Please Forgive Me. I'm not posting it yet, seeing as it gives away a lot. But oh well. **

**Disclaimer: Ok, I bet JP has one of those phones that can get wi-fi, like, anywhere. **

Holly POV

Jordan grabbed my hand and tugged me out of the crate. His face and shoulders were smeared with still-wet blood and his nose was still dripping with the liquid.

I scrambled out of the crate, Fang's jacket still clutched around me. The short hospital dress barely covered my butt. Damn. We peeled out of there, racing into the computer room. No one was there, by blessing. I skidded to a stop in front of the door, yanking it desperately.

"Shit," Jordan said. His hand was over his nose now, which was still pouring blood. He took his hand off, and it was covered. The blood dripped onto his chest, trickling down to black stitches covering his abdomen. The black stitches that matched my own, new ones.

"So how are we gonna get out?" I asked, pulling fruitlessly on the door handle again.

"Like this." Jordan backed up and ran at the door. At the last second, he jumped and hit the door feet-first. It caved under his force, blasting open a hole and spraying dust everywhere. I coughed as the dust turned red when the alarm blasted through the building.

Jordan's face rose above the rubble and he beckoned me through the hole. I hopped the short barrier.

"Okay. Sewers or ladder?" Jordan gestured above me to a ladder going to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

I tried the door to the sewer. Locked. "Ladder," I said firmly. "We don't have time to break down another door."

Jordan grinned at me and jumped onto the ladder. He scrambled to the top quickly and unlatched the trapdoor. I followed him as fast as I could as he climbed through the hole and I shimmied after. I latched the top behind me and we looked around, spying a couch in the corner of the room and dragging it on top of the trapdoor.

Once that was done, we both promptly collapsed on top of the couch.

"We're not safe yet," I groaned.

"I know," Jordan said, wiping his bloody hand on his pants and his nose on his shoulder. "We're in the basement of a big corporate office building. So come on. We need to get out before we get arrested."

I rose to my feet. Jordan stood shakily after me. He was sure losing a lot of blood. We looked around for a door, and after a few minutes, Jordan found one behind a few twists and turns in the basement.

"Over here." He gestured to the door, and I hurried to it. I wrenched it open to see a long corridor.

"Let's go," I said. "Maybe the stairs are somewhere at the end of the corridor."

"Okay."

We hurried down the hall. Slowly the door behind us swung shut. The hallway grew black. The only light was shining from under the door, but it was enough for me to see.

Not Jordan. He stumbled and grabbed my arm. His grip was tight.

"I can see," I told him, peeling his fingers off of my arm. He clutched my hand, and I muttered to myself but allowed him to keep his fingers there. I tugged him down the hallway.

Before long we reached a fork in the hallway. I stopped dead. Jordan bumped into me.

"What?"

"There's a fork." Jesus. He was really, really dependent on his vision. Iggy would be much better at this.

"How can you see?" he murmured to himself. His breathing hitched.

"Max calls it raptor vision," I muttered. "It's part of the bird DNA," I said louder. "Good senses."

"Oh." His voice sounded kind of shaky.

Left or right? Right. Right is right. Wrong! I towed him to the left. He stumbled after me, swaying a bit on his feet.

"You OK?" I asked him.

"Uhh... I don't know. I feel a little...um..." His grip slackened a little bit. I put a hand behind his back.

"Don't give out on me," I warned.

Jordan didn't respond.

Now I was totally blind. The light had grown steadily fainter until even my raptor vision couldn't make out any details. I opened my wings and wrapped one around Jordan, who was now shivering. He didn't react at all to my touch.

"Hold on..." I murmured to him. He shivered again. I could feel goose bumps on his skin under my fingers.

My foot hit something hard, and I almost fell flat on my face. I raised my leg about a foot and felt something. Stairs!

"Come on, Jordan," I said. "I found the stairs. Climb up."

Jordan weakly raised one foot. I hoped for his sake that the stairs weren't very long.

"Stay here," I told him. "I'll be right back."

He collapsed next to the staircase without a sound. Worried, I sprinted up the stairs to see how long they were. After about thirty seconds, I face planted into a door.

I peeled myself off of the surface and dashed back down the stairs, worried. And if you repeat this, I will cheerfully break your face, but I was worried sick about Jordan. Maybe he didn't have the same stamina as us mutant freaks, I don't know. But it seemed really weird that he was acting so sick just because he'd lost a little blood. A lot of blood. And it had come on so suddenly. I mean, two minutes ago he was fine. Now he could barely walk.

I ran back into the hallway, almost tripping over him. Even when my foot made contact with his stomach at full speed, he didn't react at all. Not even a huge exhalation of breath. Not _any_ sort of exhalation of breath.

Now I was seriously worried.

"Jordan," I begged. I felt his forehead. It was burning at the touch.

Shit.

"Jordan, get up. Please. I can't carry you."

He didn't move. I ran a hand over his face - his eyes were fluttering, his brows drawn and angry-feeling, his forehead damp with sweat. His fingers twitched at his side, and his breath came in short little pants. The sweat on his bare chest was wetting the dry blood and making it run again.

Great. I heaved him into a standing position. He moaned. I draped his arms over my shoulder and hiked his legs around my hips so that he was riding piggyback. I put my arms under his rear and leaned forward so that he was slumped forward. Then I summoned all my bird-hybrid strength and began to climb up the stairs.

Every step was painful. Jordan was _heavy_. I unfolded my wings so that he was nestled between them and squeezed him between them, supporting his back.

Finally, I got to the top. I bent almost double to support Jordan and twisted open the door.

**!**

Rex was worried. Really, really worried.

Every day, Nifty was taking Holly's disappearance harder and harder. There had been a few times when Rex had been on watch and seen Nifty rise, in a trance, and start back in the direction that they had last seen Holly. He would follow her, and then she would wake up out her trance and start sobbing.

Then there had been that one time that they had been walking and Cory had brushed Nifty's eye. Nifty had collapsed, shaking. Rex had frantically knelt by her side, not sure what to do, when Nifty had opened her mouth, and let loose that scream again. The ear-shattering one. The one that made his heart beat about fifty times faster and his forehead break out in cold chills. The one that was the very embodiment of panic.

Nifty was barely speaking anymore. Cory's worried hands wondered where the laughing, alive Nifty had gone against Rex's cheek. Rex wondered the same thing. Rocky fluttered nervously around, hovering and getting in the way, generally being a real pain in the ass. Rex just gritted his teeth and bore it. He felt he should be sainted.

But some things, even four arms couldn't handle. Nifty fell deeper into depression every day. What the hell was going on? Rex wondered to himself on an hourly basis. Where's the Nifty I know? The one who, even when she was dying on the inside, still grinned and managed to light up everyone's world? I feel like she's come unplugged. And she needs Holly's hand to plug her back in.

They were heading in a random direction. Or at least that's what they told Rocky. Actually, they told him to head south until he hit West Virginia, and then go west-southwest for a while. California, they told him. Death Valley, they thought. They were headed for the School to get Holly back. And nothing was stopping them.

Rocky's car was slow. It would be faster for them to run. Well, it would be faster for Nifty to run. Rex was cold-blooded, he couldn't move very fast. And Rocky was human. But they puttered along in the tiny red Volvo, heading to California.

If Holly wasn't there, and they had to come back, Rex would hold Rocky down and tickle him until he realized they needed to ditch the stupid red car and buy some plane tickets. Tickling was very effective if you had four arms. It was twice as fun to torture people. Rex could reach most of the ticklish spots on people.

Rex sighed and scratched his forehead. It was very itchy lately, but Rex didn't think that it was acne. The only one of the three of them that had even HAD acne was Nifty. It turned out that cats could get it. Sounded like a barfathon to Rex (A/N: One of my kittens has it pretty bad...it is seriously nasty). But it was also pretty painful. Rex checked in the rearview mirror of the car, and then the side ones as well. He blinked and looked again.

His forehead was seriously deformed. He was certain that those dents hadn't been there yesterday. What the hell?

He sighed. What he would give just to know approximately what he would look like when he grew up. Normal people just didn't know how good they had it. At least they knew that they wouldn't have any sort of mutations or anything, unlike him. Even Holly was fairly sure that she would stay mostly humanoid. Rex didn't even have a clue about what different types of DNA he had. They were fairly certain about the lizard bit, but whatever had given him the extra arms was still a mystery. They were guessing octopus. But...who knew, really?

He sighed and glanced back at Nifty, who was in the backseat, sprawled across all three seats. She was asleep; Cory was sliding out of her arms, also conked out. Rex reached back and grabbed him, and Cory's fist brushed his cheek. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular; just shapes and slides of color and random objects. Nifty's face appeared multiple times; her happy, alive face, not the sad and netherworldish face she sported now. Rex was pleased to see that his own face appeared, as did Rocky's.

He closed his eyes, cradling Cory in his arms, and drifted off.

**Sorry for the crappy chapter….**

**I had a revelation I just wanted to share with you…who agrees that Jacob Black and Quil Ateara are pedos? Please tell me…**

**R&R :P**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: I'll be away for a week, so I'm going to slip this one past my Beta, since I'm leaving in 2 hours and I won't have any Wi-Fi there. Sorry if there's any mistakes **

**Disclaimer: Me no own.**

HPOV

I emerged out in a deserted corridor. The door behind me said "Authorized Personnel Only," and I shut it with a click, staggering under Jordan.

"Dude," I said, "this is not the time to be sleeping!"

Jordan didn't stir.

I staggered down the hallway, folding my wings underneath Jordan to hide them. _Come on, is there a wheelchair anywhere..._ Praying, I turned the corner and stumbled into the bathroom.

Locking the door behind me, I decided we both needed to get cleaned up if we were going anywhere. I ripped some paper towels out of the dispenser and sponged off Jordan's chest. Slowly but surely, his skin came into view and his face was cleaned off. Then I looked at his nose. It was crooked.

Darn it. I pulled back my fist and punched him in the face again. Probably not the best way to break someone's nose in a precise place, but I didn't care. I was pissed at Jordan right now because my back hurt and it was all HIS fault.

Blood flowed from his nose some more. But Jordan didn't stir. I was so alarmed for a moment that I checked to make sure he was still breathing. He was. His breath was coming quickly, and something a whitecoat had once told me flashed through my brain.

...your breath comes quicker when you're about to die...

I couldn't remember if he was just talking about hypothermia, or if it was true for everyone. But bile rose in my throat, which seemed swollen all of a sudden. Chills rose all over my body, and I clutched at my arms.

No. Jordan was not allowed to die. Wasn't happening. Sorry. No dying allowed. Got it?

Hands shaking, I pushed Jordan's nose back into place. The blood slowed and stopped. I washed my hands and his face again slowly.

"...ehar..."

I froze.

"What?" I said.

"…fly…ear…"

Fly ear? What the heck?

"Save your breath," I hissed at him. He didn't respond. I put my hand on his chest, feeling it rising and falling far too fast. I pushed down, hard.

"…kissssssss…."

The 's' trailed on as long as his breath went out. At the end of the breath, he coughed loudly and violently.

"Jordan. I'm sorry. There will be no more kissing, of any kind. None. Whatsoever. Okay?" I brought my face up close to his ear. "But if you wake up in the next thirty seconds, I'll kiss you as many times as you want."

I leaned back and started counting.

5…

10…

20…

"Okay, sorry. You missed it," I told him.

Now what? I'd been hoping he'd wake up. But of course, no. I'd let myself get my hopes up. I closed my eyes, thinking. Suddenly, a memory flashed though my brain.

I'd probably been about thirteen. The whitecoats had brought me into the gym to do something. This gym looked pretty normal, I guess. There were dark grey stone floors, a huge climbing wall against the side, ropes and stuff handing from the ceiling. Weights were in one corner, and pull up bars and stuff in another. There were stationary bikes and elliptical trainers and all sorts of other fancy stuff as well. The whitecoats led me over to the weights.

Taking the smallest one, a one-pounder, they ordered me to extend my wings. I did so, more curious than afraid. They tied two one-pounders to each of my wings and ordered me to lift it.

I did so easily. My wings swept up and down without a hitch.

The whitecoats took off the one-pounder and put on ten pounds. I lifted that easily as well. They added ten more, and ten more. When it got to fifty on each wing, I started struggling. Sixty, I couldn't lift.

The whitecoats took off the weights and brought me back to my crate.

The next day, I was brought back. They started at fifty, making me lift it over and over until I could swoop my wings up and down with almost no effort at all – not flying, just lifting. Then they added more. We worked for about three hours until I could lift eighty pounds on each wing, one hundred and sixty total.

Over the course of the week, I made it to one hundred and fifty on each wing – three hundred pounds total, about triple my weight. That's when we stopped, and with no explanation, the whitecoats brought me back to my crate and closed it. Once a month, I lifted them again for hours to make sure I could still do it.

So maybe…I looked at Jordan. I'd never done it while flying before, but there was no way that Jordan weighed three hundred pounds. It was worth a shot. Plus, when I was carrying him, it was my legs that were taking the strain, not my back.

I glanced around the bathroom. There was a window in one corner, almost tucked away behind the stalls. I headed for it.

"…fly…ear…"

I ignored Jordan's mutterings. Fly ear? It made no sense. I looked through the window before opening it – on the other side was a platform that I could heave him onto. I put my fingers under the window frame and heaved upward. It creaked but didn't move.

Fine. I spread my wings, backed up, and did a running start. As soon as my feet left the ground, I fell forwards so that I was parallel to the ceiling. My wings brushed the stalls and the opposite mirror above the sinks, but I managed to inch over to the window and pull upward.

It worked. The window shot free of the dry paint holding it down and banged into the top of the frame. That left half a window for me to squeeze Jordan through. I hoped he wouldn't mind if I got his hair dirty.

I landed and picked up Jordan by his armpits, hoisting him off the sink. His feet landed with a thud on the red tiles. I dragged him over to the window and pushed him up onto the ledge, and then rolled him so that he flopped onto the platform. Then I crawled through myself, picked him up, spread my wings, and jumped.

**R&R?~!**


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Hey, I'm back. I'd just like to say, thank you for your support and suggestions in this moment of crisis. The award for best suggestion goes to 'thenomnomkitty' with "They could chug Pepsi". Thank you very much for that wonderful suggestion. I'll try to work it in somehow.

Please don't blame me if this chapter sucks. I'm video chatting my hyper friend m4tigers at the same time as I'm writing this and it is a little distracting. She is currently dancing to Evanescence which I am playing over here and she can hear. I'm saying the words as I'm typing them and I think it is pissing her off (as well as her mom, who keeps walking through the background). Oh well.

Disclaimer: JP listens to old man music. I listen to AWESOME music. :)

It was very different.

Flying with Jordan, that was. See, when I normally flew, I could just float. Glide along. Now I had to struggle to stay aloft. Despite the fact that my wings were very strong, my arms were aching. He was heavy. Plus, I was still learning to fly. Extra cargo just made it harder.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice that my grip was slipping. So it was without any warning when he slipped from my grasp and tumbled quickly through the clouds.

O  
H

C  
R  
A  
P.

I dove after him, ever though he would break both my arms when I caught him and then we'd both be screwed. I swooped down underneath him and hovered with my arms out, palms up.

STOP! my mind screamed.

A jolt shot through my fingertips, leaving them numb. I couldn't move my fingers. I stared at my hands in amazement. Then I realized something and looked up.

Jordan was hanging suspended in midair.

I clenched my fists. He rolled over. When I unclenched them, he rolled back. I did this for a few minutes, fascinated by this new development.

Telekinesis. Wow! I'd heard of the Flock having special powers. Like, really powerful powers. And then there was that whole thing with the dreams I'd had from in the womb and stuff, the ones with Fang. But this...this was totally...completely different. None of the Flock had anything like this. But I thought Jeb was the one handing out the powers - so why me? I'd never met him. Was there something else going on here? Something bigger? And even if there was, why not save something like telekinesis for, like, Max or something?

After I got all that pointless speculation out of the way, I decided to just be happy with whatever the fates designed. It _was_ pretty cool, after all. I'd practice more when I got down on the ground and Jordan's life was no longer in danger. I rolled my fingers in a beckoning motion, and Jordan floated through the air and into my arms.

Next stop: find Nifty and Rex.

**!**

MPOV

Over the past month, the four life forms had been working on finding information on their previous life. Their moms and dads and such. Really, the Director knew she shouldn't care less about them - after all, they were just a regular human, a failed feline, a hopeless mutt of mixed DNA, and a pointless Gen. 77 that's only capability was to transfer thoughts through a touch. And this was only because the stupid creature had no mouth. Marian pushed away from her desk, utterly disgusted with her infatuation. She pressed a button near her computer, and an intercom crackled to life.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Send me subject Eighty-four."

"Right away, ma'am."

Marian sighed and drummed her fingers on her thigh while she waited for her daily...well, she didn't know quite what to call it. She was still contemplating it when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in, come in," she called.

The door slid open. Into the room marched a man, his white coat brushing his knees. In his hands was a long chain. Attached to the end of the chain was a collar around the neck of a girl. She was maybe nine years old, her face smooth and tan and Asian. She had thin dark hair that fell halfway down her back in a bad need of a haircut, and she was clothed only in a thin paper hospital gown.

"Here she is, ma'am," the man murmured. He attached the end of the chain to Marian's desk, and the Director sniffed with pleasure.

"I'll send for you when we're done."

The man looked slightly disappointed, but nodded and left. Marian pulled back into her desk and motioned for the shackled girl to sit. She did so fragilely.

"Hello, hon," Marian said enthusiastically. The girl did not meet her eyes. "Remind me of your name again?"

The girl mumbled something Marian did not catch. She raised her eyebrows. "What was that, darling?"

"I said my name's Atalanta."

"How nice. Now, Atalanta...tell me, how are you finding your conditions here?"

She mumbled something else.

"Really, dear, you must speak up. A body can't hear you when you mumble so!" Marian squeezed out a laugh.

"I said cold." To illustrate her point, Atalanta shivered.

"How nice," Marian repeated eagerly. "Now, Atalanta. I think you know what I brought you here for."

Atalanta mumbled again, but Marian didn't care what it was that the worthless girl said this time. Only one thing mattered to her now.

"I'd like you to sing for me," she said.

"Okay," said Atalanta, and took a deep breath.

_Hushaby, don't you cry__  
__Go to sleep, little baby__  
__When you wake, you shall have__  
__All the pretty little ponies._

At this point, Marian didn't care where she was. Who she was. What she was doing. All she knew was that she wanted the pretty little ponies. Her head spun. As Atalanta continued her song, Marian could see them clearly: the dapples, the grays, the paints, and all the others, grazing in her backyard. They were hers. She wanted them. The Siren wove them in her mind, and the Siren would bring them to reality. Maybe. They still needed to figure out how to make her even better. Marian thought she was good enough as it was - her hypnotic voice was lulling Marian to sleep, her dreams filled with horses.

**!**

RPOV

"You should probably park this here," Rex told Rocky as they circled a parking lot. "I don't think there's a strip mall in the School that we can park at."

Nifty was doing better today; she was sitting up straight in the backseat, and her eyes were wide. Rex didn't know what would happen if Holly wasn't here. He didn't want to think about it.

Rocky pulled into a parking place and Rex was out before he'd turned off the car. "Let's get moving," he said. "We've wasted way too much time already, just getting here. Let's go."

Nifty climbed out and slammed her door, and Rex slipped the baby contraption onto her back. He carefully placed Cory inside and adjusted the straps. Then he gave the redheaded baby a little pat, smiling down at the kid. Cory's hand brushed Rex's cheek, smiling back at him.

"Alright." Rocky jangled the keys in his hand. "Who wants to blow this Popsicle stand?"

Nifty managed something resembling a smile. Rex scowled at him.

"Okay. You two are definitely enthusiastic," Rocky said. "Let's go."

**!**

They walked to the School from the mall – or in the general direction they thought it might be in. Rex led the way. It wasn't too long before they reached the edge of town, and entered a thick forest. They walked for about five minutes, swatting away bugs and undergrowth, beginning to think they had gone to wrong direction, when they came to a barb wire fence. Fifty feet to the left was a NO TRESPASSING sign, and fifty feet to the right was a PRIVATE PROPERTY sign.

"I'm guessing…this is it," Rex said.

Rocky frowned up at it. "So how can we get in? It's not like any of us can fly."

Rex looked uncomfortably at Nifty, but her face showed no emotion.

"Er…no, but I'm sure we can find a way," he mumbled.

Looking up, he saw that the fence was about thirteen feet high – more than twice Rocky's height. "There's got to be some sort of back entrance. Let's go in a circle and see if there's a hole or something."

He set off to the right toward the PRIVATE PROPERTY sign. At least that one didn't say anything about not going in, it just said it was private. A saying he'd heard once flashed through his brain: _Trespassers will be shot, survivors will be shot again_. When he'd first heard it he's thought it was funny; now, not so much. He coughed uncomfortably and forged ahead, Nifty behind him and Rocky bringing up the rear.

They walked on. Inside the fence, there was a large building – multiple large buildings, actually – that Rex guessed was the School. He saw a few people every so often, and would duck out of sight, frantically motioning for the others to follow him. They had passed a bunch more signs saying clearly that no one was allowed inside, but Rex tried to ignore them. Every sign, though, added more weight to the ball of lead in his stomach.

His forehead had started hurting again. He rubbed it tiredly. It didn't feel like it was a headache. It felt more external. But whatever, it hurt. As his fingers moved across his forehead, he felt them slip up and down as they ran across these…_dent_ things. It was definitely creepy. He sighed and shook his hair back over it.

"Who's there?"

Rex froze, two of his arms halfway down and the other two in his pockets, and his right foot halfway off the ground. He teetered for a moment, trying to regain his balance, but then lost control and went crashing to the ground. Sticks snapped under his weight and flailing limbs, making a loud crashing noise. He groaned inwardly at his spectacular clumsiness.

"Who's there?" the voice said again. It sounded feminine. Rex didn't dare move to see who it was, holding himself as still as he possibly could. He didn't even breathe, partly because he didn't want any kind of bugs inside his nose and partly because he didn't want to make a single noise. He could hear his heart thumping, loud and wet, in his ears. He was easily the most cowardly person he had ever met in his entire life, and growing up in four square feet of space didn't exactly help that problem for him. Nor was it an excuse. He'd lost his pride when he'd been stood up by that singer. This was the exact reason why this was such a problem.

"Huh," said the voice. "Must've been an animal or something. I'll have them come out here to catch it. We need some more test subjects."

There was the sound of feet walking away. Rex relaxed and allowed himself to breathe. He instantly regretted it as he inhaled a bug of some sort and after much snorting, as silently as he could manage, hacked it out.

After a few minutes had passed, and he was sure the person was gone, he heard Rocky's voice. "That was close, huh?"

"Yeah." Rex sat up and brushed off his torso, accomplishing it twice as fast with the extra arms. He looked around. "So, um, where's Nifty?"

"Huh?" Rocky asked, looking around bewilderedly. "Oh, um, she was right there a moment ago…"

"I'm up here," said a voice.

Rex craned his neck. Balanced on the pole supporting the barb wire was Nifty, crouched and looking bewildered as to how she had gotten up there. Cory, strapped to her back, was adding extra weight, so she was leaning forward a bit.

"Uh…Nifty?" Rex said. "How the heck did you get up there?"

"Um…I jumped?" Nifty said. "I heard that lady and I was startled, and I jumped, and I landed up here." She looked down at them. "I have…no idea how."

Rex glanced down to push himself into a standing position, his head spinning, when he saw it.

A hole in the wire.

"Well, get down," he said, "'cause there's a hole here. We can get through."

"Okay," said Nifty. She jumped down onto the other side of the wire, her feet landing softly on the grass despite the distance. Rex decided to deal with this new phenomenon later and focus on the problem at hand – that is, making the hole bigger so that he could fit through.

He gripped the wire with all four arms, spreading his fingers around the metal spikes, and braced his foot against a tree. Head down, he pulled with all his strength.

A tremor passed through his arms, and with a groan, the wire gave way, widening just enough to let him force his head and shoulders through. He pushed his vest through ahead of him so that it wouldn't get snagged on the barb and crawled through, Nifty helping him pull the last few inches through. He stood and shrugged his vest back on.

"Uh…guys?"

Rocky was still on the other side of the fence. He gave a helpless little shrug. "I'm not going to be able to get through," he said. "You all should go on without me." He smiled weakly, and Nifty pressed up against the wire, ignoring the spikes.

"Okay," she said. "This place isn't a place for humans, anyway. It's probably better if you stay. We'll meet you at the car in a couple hours, okay?"

"Okay," said Rocky, and was gone.

Nifty turned to Rex. She smiled weakly as well, gripping one of his hands. "Shall we?" she said tentatively.

Rex squeezed her freckled hand comfortingly, encasing it in his other left hand when he noticed she was shaking. "Let's shall," he said, and they set off.

A few minutes of walking brought them up to the side of the building. They pressed themselves against the wall as best they could and slunk around the side of the building until they reached a door. It was fortified with steel and had a small key slot above the handle.

"Well, this sucks," Nifty said, staring at the door. "Rocky can pick locks. I wish he'd come." She gave a sigh.

"I can pick locks," Rex said. "Kind of. He told me how, but I never got to try it."

Nifty stared. "Um…okay…and when, exactly, did this happen?"

"When you were out cold in the backseat one time." He shrugged. "I don't remember the exact day…You got anything sharp?"

Bewildered, she shook her head. Rex sighed and dug around in his pockets, coming up empty handed. Rocky had hairpins on him at all times. Some criminal Rex made.

"Okay. Look for something, okay?"

He got down on all sixes and crawled around on the ground, searching for anything he could use to stick in the slot. After five minutes, he sat back on his haunches and wiped his forehead (which was still hurting).

"Damn," he said. "I can't find anything."

Nifty sat back as well, resting her hands on her knees. Cory reached over and brushed her cheek, and her eyes widened. "Oh, _yeah_!" she exclaimed.

"What?"

Nifty ignored him, spreading her fingers wide on her kneecaps. She closed her eyes, concentrating. Rex watched her face, and then when movement caught his eye, he glanced down sharply.

Nifty's fingernails were growing. They extended forward, hardening and curling under a little bit. She opened her eyes and stared at her hands, then turned and smiled at Rex.

"Cool, no?"  
Rex nodded, his eyes even wider than normal. "Okay, so…"

He took her hand, folding all but one finger down. He gripped her finger and slid the nail into the slot, twisting and turning her hand, making her smile. He rejoiced inwardly at the noise, glad that she was finally laughing again, excited at the prospect of getting Holly back.

Of course, if she wasn't there…if they couldn't find her…well, he wouldn't dwell on that.

Finally, there was a click, and Nifty withdrew her hand, her nails shrinking back to their normal sizes. Rex reached out and grasped the handle.

"Ready?"

She was. He turned the handle, and together they stepped into the School.

**!**

Okay, I love you, thank you so much for all the support! It's really inspiring and I just think that everyone is awesome.

Nifty: -collapses- Oh, my GOD! That was HORRIBLE!

Me: I second that.

Mr. Gartland: … -keels over-

Me: I bet you guys forgot about us, right? I bet you did. I hate everyone. That was the worst thing that ever happened to me.

Nifty: I thought we were NEVER going to get out of that DISGUSTING PERVERTED LIVE CHATROOM! –shudders-

Me: No, the worst part was definitely Webkinz World. We were stuck there for like a month!

Nifty: Yeah, okay, virtual stuffed animals walking around wearing clothes WAS pretty creepy. Plus, they were so damn OPTIMISTIC all the time! God, it was annoying!

Me: Heh heh…but the _best_ part was when I magically knew the passwords to everyone's email accounts…now I know EXACTLY what all my friends say behind my back…

Nifty: Yeah, but Mr. G made us leave. He said we were violating people's privacy.

Me: Okay, yeah, so maybe that sucked. So I change my vote for best part to when…hmm… maybe when we were stuck in YouTube?

Nifty: Oh, my God, yes. I DIED in there. From laughing! People post the FUNNIEST STUFF!

Me: But I'm glad we managed to find out way back to FF.n. If we hadn't, LORD knows what kind of cybersex we'd stumble across next.

Nifty: The cosplay site…-shudders-

Mr. Gartland: I want…my third graders…

Me: Well, ha ha, I bet you guys thought I was going to end the chapter there, right? Well, you were wrong. Let's see what everyone's up to now.

**!**

It was weirdly silent inside the School. Somehow, Rex thought there would be more evil scientists wandering around committing heinous crimes against the poor unsuspecting experiments. But there was no one.

"If anyone asks," Rex muttered to Nifty, "remember, I'm subject Thirty-four and you're subject Twenty-three. We're looking for Holly, who's subject Seventeen – got it?"

"Yeah," said Nifty. "Ooh, look – an office! Maybe…?"

They glanced at each other and ducked inside the empty office, closing and locking the door behind them. Scurrying over to the computer, Nifty seated herself at the desk and Rex at the one next to her.

Rex sat motionless for a moment. "What's the password?" he said.

Nifty thought. "Um…remember when Nudge said something at the Institute? We should probably give that a try…What was it? It was something like…big X, little j, little n, big P, number 7, big O, big H, little j, and the number 4."

Rex looked at her. "You remembered that?"

Nifty shrugged. "Type it in, see if it works."

"Say it again, slower," Rex said, and Nifty repeated the code, Rex slowly and surely poking each key. He hit ENTER and glanced up at the screen to see it processing the code, and then he was in.

"It works – try it on yours."

Nifty typed in the code and looked at her own screen. "I got it," she said. "So now what?"

"Look for anything about the Institute," Rex told her. "If we each look we'll find it faster." He scanned the files on the desktop, ready to pounce. One folder caught his eye in particular – . He double-clicked on it hesitantly. Pages of information scrolled down the screen in front of him.

"I think I got something," they both said in unison. Rex glanced at Nifty's screen – she'd found what looked like a profile showing information for Holly, plus a picture.

"There's one for Holly, me, you, Total, Cory, Monkeyman, Zia, and a few others," she said. "What did you get?"

"Some documents. Let's print both of 'em and look over it later." Rex found and clicked on the PRINT button, hearing the whirr of the machine starting up. It printed out a nice stack, for the both of them combined, and Rex slipped them in a manila envelope and tucked it inside his vest, feeling pleased with himself.

Then they turned.

"Having fun?" said a voice.

Three Erasers clustered in the doorway, none of whom Rex recognized. He shrank back into the desk, bumping into some clutter. Nifty shrank back with him. Her body was trembling.

"SO…what made you think you could just sneak in here unnoticed and hack our computer system?" the one in front sneered. "'Cause I gotta say, it's mighty bigheaded of you to think so." He laughed and plunged his hand in his pocket, pulling out a small wooden object. He placed his nail on it and flicked upward, revealing a shiny silver knife. He laughed some more.

"So which one should I slice and dice first…?" the Eraser snarled. "Oh, I know – how about the _baby_?"

He grinned and pulled back his arm, and then threw the knife. The world slowed down, and Nifty's arm extended to protect Cory. The knife spun around in circles slowly, Rex's horrified gaze following it as it hit Nifty's arm –

_-and sliced right through._

Okay, I _am_ going to stop here. I know y'all will hate me forever. BUT! I DON'T CARE! I have been working on it for a long time trying to get a long chapter for your patience. So please review? :)


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Hey y'all I'm back!**

**I have spent the past week watching**_**RayWilliamJohnson**_**videos. Has anyone else ever watched those? Hilarious. But definitely M-rated for language, so don't watch when Mommy's home. I also discovered this hilarious video called something like**_**If you watch this 100 times you'll still laugh !**_**where basically these two guys are arguing and one turns and runs at the wall and just throws himself at it and then falls on the floor. It's about 10 seconds long. I must have watched it at least 20 times and it brings tears to my eyes every time. It's fnicking hilarious.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything… My advice about this chapter? Read it on an empty stomach. I'm writing it on one. –ignores stomach's furious growling-**

RPOV

It all happened so quickly and yet so slowly. Rex felt as though his feet were rooted to the ground. Each of his various limbs were frozen as he watched the glittering knife, spinning and twisting in the air, make contact with Nifty's left arm, outstretched in an attempt to protect the baby, and slice straight through.

There was a sickening thud as the arm fell to the floor, spraying crimson liquid everywhere. Rex's stomach rose in his throat. The knife clattered down after it, stopping its terrorizing path at Nifty's severed…

Nifty's eyes widened impossibly as the Erasers laughed and Rex lost control of his stomach and upchucked violently. Blood was everywhere. Puke was everywhere. Fear and terror and the Eraser's amusement was everywhere and Rex suddenly knew that without a miracle they would never make it out of this alive.

That's when it happened.

A miracle.

Nifty opened her mouth and **screamed**_._

It was _that_ scream. She's let it loose only twice before. The first time was when Holly had first been kidnapped, so long ago. The second time was when she'd had that sort of mental breakdown in the woods.

Rex froze in terror. So did the Erasers. And then those big, huge, hulking half-men turned and ran for their lives.

Rex sprang into action. He grabbed Nifty's right arm and slung it over his shoulder. Supporting almost her entire body weight, he took a shaky step forward out of the room, then another, then another. He panted from the horror gripping his cowardly heart tightly, and that was before Cory's little fist brushed his cheek.

The boy was terrified. It sent a jolt of pure adrenaline into Rex's blood. His mind was black and screaming.

-_cold terror has him in its absolute grip-_

A splatter of red blood appeared on Cory's mind, and Rex knew he needed to save Nifty, if not for Cory's sake. He pulled her back out of the building, pausing to put Cory's carrier on his own back. Then he picked her up, and, carrying her, set off at a run toward the fence. His legs stumbled underneath him, and ignoring the slippery blood between them, he gripped her harder. Her eyes were wide, staring; not a sound crossed her lips. Blood splattered her face, shirt, the frayed sleeve of her jacket. Her arm squished up between them, her legs kicking out as Rex ran on. Dropping to his knees, he pushed Nifty through the hole in the fence, ignoring the smear of blood on the grass, the trail of it leading from the building, the spots on the metal fence. Next Cory went through, and then Rex crawled through himself. He put Cory back on his back, grabbed Nifty, and ran.

The forest loomed around him as he crashed through it. Every branch and vine seemed to go out of their way to hit him, trip him, stop him. He ran and ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore, and then he stopped.

Falling to his knees, he laid down Nifty and pulled off his vest and T-shirt. He ripped a strip off the bottom of his shirt, then spat on it and used it to clean the immediate area where the wound was, trying to hold his now-empty stomach down. He ripped up the rest of his shirt, trying a bandage around the stump with half of the strips, horrified at the speed in which it turned red. Deciding to wait until the fabric was as saturated as it could possibly get to use the other half, he picked Nifty up again and ran for Rocky's car.

When he reached the parking lot, he stopped short.

The red car was gone.

Dread built up in Rex's throat. He attempted to gulp it down, failing epically. His next thought was, _Oh well, screw him,_ and he turned and fled back into the woods.

As his last foot cleared the edge, he heard it.

"REX!"

He looked up, and his heart soared with hope.

_It was Holly_.

**!**

APOV

"Hey, Hannibal."

Atalanta settled into her crate gloomily, sparing a word for the African elephant hybrid next to her. She heard a sigh of impatience, and then felt the soft nose of Hannibal tickling her arm.

"Stop it," she said, brushing him away.

The long gray leather explored farther up, curling around her jaw and pulling her head to face him. His upper lip, merged with the long nose, made it difficult for the boy to speak, so he rarely did so. His cheekbones pulled forward into tusks, one long and one short after one whitecoat had severed it, costing her her job. Gray leathery skin covered his cheekbones and the sides of his neck, forearms, and calves **(same places as Rex)**and his hands and feet were mere clubs, making him unable to walk. His ears ballooned out next to his head, trailing down his back like key-shaped butterfly wings.

Hannibal was expected to die soon. Atalanta was not looking forward to it. In fact, she was anything _but_ looking forward to it. Hannibal was almost six years old, only one or two months ago having been moved next to Atalanta. They'd become close friends, and she sang for him a lot, the bliss and enjoyment on his face when she did so being payment enough. She wanted his last few days to be happy ones, filled with music and happiness, cheesy as it sounded.

She wanted to sing for him now; wanted to make his large gray ears rejoice. He deserved so much more, but she wanted to give him what she could.

_Hush, little baby, don't say a word.__  
__Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird__  
__And if that mockingbird won't sing,__  
__Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring__  
__And if that diamond ring turns brass,__  
__Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass__  
__And if that looking glass gets broke,__  
__Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat__  
__And if that billy goat won't pull,__  
__Papa's gonna buy you a cart and bull__  
__And if that cart and bull fall down,__  
__You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town._

Hannibal's arms wrapped around himself as she sang, and a slow smile spread across his face. He rocked back and forth gently, and she smiled sadly, imagining the pictures her voice brought to his mind.

Hannibal was a good friend of hers for two reasons. One, because he didn't have a mean bone in his body. She'd never seen any sort of "elephant rage" from Hannibal. He loved everyone and everything he saw, and despite the fact that the whitecoats that came for him every day were clearly evil and sadistic, he still followed them, willing to give them a second chance time and again. Two, because he never judged her. Many of the other experiments saw the white scars on her throat, almost completely blocking the tan skin behind it; heard her luring, imagining voice, and turned her away, shunning her because of what someone else had done. The operation, while bringing the blessing of a voice, was actually more of a mixed blessing – everyone looked at her with either pity or revulsion in their eyes. Atalanta was beginning to think she'd never have any friends when she met Hannibal, and his loving, un-prejudiced way of always letting people have as many chances as they could possibly ask for to prove and redeem themselves.

Before her song was over, though, the whitecoats came to make her be quiet. She was distracting them, they said, and was not allowed to make noise. To ensure that she didn't, they put on the gag, still soaked from its last use, and left her.

She gave a weak grin to Hannibal, whose innocent smile seemed to stretch from ear to ear. He was a ray of sunshine in this world of darkness, and she wanted to keep him close from now until forever.

**!**

HPOV

"REX!"

I saw his blue head glance up, saw his scales flashing, and the terrified look on his face melt away as he gave me the biggest smile I'd ever seen.

Jordan was still "asleep" in my arms, but I couldn't tell if he was, like, asleep or in some sort of coma. I decided just to ignore it for now and instead focus on trying to find Rex and Nifty. At first, I'd been completely overwhelmed by the vast area of ground I would have to cover in order to find them – I mean, America's a pretty big place. Then I realized they'd probably go to the School, and headed west. I made pretty good time, not bothering to stop and eat since I didn't have any money. I made it here in seven hours. Just enough time, apparently; like it was some kind of trick-of-the-fates that I'd come here at this exact moment.

I glided to a stop down on the ground and dumped Jordan, kind of forgetting that he was a living person and not just some sort of doll. Then I saw Rex for real, and more importantly, Nifty.

"Holy CRAP!" I yelled. "What the – what HAPPENED?"

"We had a…run in…with some Erasers," Rex said. I noticed his face was white under the blood. The scales running down his chest were completely covered in crimson. I searched for the wound – maybe coming from Nifty's arm? – then stopped when I realized that what I should be looking for was her arm.

This was bad. This was very bad.

"How much money do you have?" I asked, panicking.

"Money? Uh…None?"

Crap. "You sure?"

"Uh…No. I do have some money." He let go of Nifty's still form with his lower right arm and dug in his pocket. "…Here." He handed me a plastic card.

"Thanks." I grabbed the card. "Know the PIN?"

"Yep."

"Then let's go." I grabbed Jordan from the ground, staggering a bit. "We need to get to the hospital."

**Sorry for the inexcusably short chapter, but my computer's about to die~ and I need to get this to my beta so bye!**


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: I'm going on an update spree! I have 5 days off for vacation, and since I have 5 stories, I'm going to try to update each one…Just don't laugh at me when it fails…**

**Disclaimer: Maximum Ride belongs to Old Man James to do with what he will. *cackles***

***Four Days Later***

"Has…Rocky shown up yet?"

Rex's brows creased. I knew he hated to tell her, especially when she was lying in a hospital bed, but he had to say it. "No, he hasn't. I tried calling him, but…he didn't pick up. I'm sorry, Nifty."

She closed her eyes, turning her head a little to the side. Sighing, she opened her eyes again and looked over at me, a smile spreading slowly across her face.

"I'm just…so glad to see…you again," she said. Everything was so much slower with the medication for her, but I gave a slow smile in return, feeling tears prick my eyes (for the millionth time).

"I know. I missed you so much." I glanced up at Rex, letting him know that I included him in this statement. He allows his own face to break into a small smile as Nifty reached across her body with her right arm and squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers back, letting the tears fall even as I smiled.

Her left arm, or what was left of it, was wrapped in bandages that made it look more than three times the size it normally was. The knife had cut her arm right under the shoulder, leaving just about an inch under her armpit. There would be no re-attaching the limb. Nifty had nearly lost a leg in an experiment when we were about ten, but the whitecoats had taken her immediately into intense surgery for about 48 hours to completely re-attach it. But this was different – first because there was about a half-hour time period between the time of the accident and when we got her to the hospital, and second because the knife wasn't exactly clean. And after it happened Rex decided to go through the woods to get to the parking lot or whatever and it got even more infected.

Anyway, I wasn't mad. As long as Nifty was safe, it didn't matter.

"He'll show up," I reassured them. "I'm sure of it."

"Hey, guys."

I looked up to see Jordan leaning against the doorframe, Cory on his hip. He was now awake and fine. The Institute had added a sedative to his bloodstream that would be triggered if he tried to escape. The idea was that I wouldn't want to leave without him and would have stayed to be sure he was all right, thusly getting recaptured. The Institute had obviously not counted on my willpower or remembering the training that they themselves had given me.

Cory held out his arms for Nifty, but Rex shook his head. Cory settled back in Jordan's arms and brushed a hand on Jordan's cheek. His expression didn't change.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"You don't need to ask," I told him. He took a hesitant step forward, but then seemed to change his mind.

"On second thought, I think I'll go get some lunch. Does anyone want anything?" he offered, but we all shook our heads.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Rex said.

"Okay," said Jordan, and turned with a squeak of his shoes on the floor. I caught a last glimpse of his new T-shirt as he left.

"Holly, we need to tell you something," Rex said unexpectedly, and Nifty nodded slowly, but determinedly.

"What?" I asked calmly, but underneath, I was kind of panicking. _Were they planning to tell me that they had decided to vote Jordan off of the team? No, they wouldn't. Wait – I don't care if Jordan gets voted off, because I don't care…um…_

"We found something important at the Institute," Rex said. "I wanted to wait until Nifty was conscious enough, but I think I should probably tell you now." He leaned forward over Nifty's bed. "We found files on a computer in the Institute that had lots of information on the three of us. As well as Cory, Monkeyman, Zia, Total…and some others. We managed to print it, but haven't looked over it thoroughly yet. I think now would be a really good opportunity."

"Yeah," I said, relieved. The Jordan thing was just being put off, though. The tension between the boys was nearly tangible. "Where are the files?"

"Right here," Rex said, going over to the little table in the room. He pulled out a drawer and felt around in it until he pulled out his hand. In it was a large manila envelope. He brought the envelope over to the bed, and Nifty raised her head a little as he slid the papers out of the file and handed me half of the stack.

"These are the ones I found," he said. "It's some documents. I don't know the order if there is one. We'd just finished printing them when…when…" He looked helplessly at Nifty. "When it happened. So do you want to read them over?"

"Sure," I said. I pulled a chair over to Nifty's bedside and plopped myself in it, swinging my feet onto her bed. Through the sheets, I felt her foot inch closer to mine and press itself against me.

"Don't I get…any?" she said.

"No," Rex said.

"See if you can sleep, hon," I said to her, waiting for her disgruntled huff of agreement before letting my eyes fall on top of the papers.

The first one was about some elephant kid I had never met named Hannibal. I flipped through his pages quickly, until I reached more pages on some other Gen. 77 kid named Atalanta. I began to skim through her pages as well, but something caught my attention. Narrowing my eyes, I leaned closer and read:

Subject 104 (Atalanta)

_Subject 104 is a Generation 77 female who has undergone surgery on her vocal cords and voice box. When she sings, she can bring the images of her song to any human or hybrid that happens to be listening. When someone hears the song, they become unable to think of anything else besides what she is singing about. This provides a distraction from anything imaginable: she could even convince someone being burned at the stake that they were swimming in cool water. She is currently being held at the School in Death Valley, California._

That was interesting. I grabbed a pen and drew a little arrow pointing to the paragraph in question. I'd come back to that later.

I glanced up at Rex, who was holding up a paper with each hand, spread in a circle before him like an array of cards. I snickered to myself and looked back down at my papers.

Flipping past Atalanta's pages, I came to my own article and prepared to read.

Subject 17 (Holly)

_Subject 17 is a human/avian hybrid female. She has wings (13' 6" ws) and can fly carrying three times her weight. She is the biological twin of subject 3. She is currently developing the power to control mass using her mind, and using hand coordination can make objects move as she desires. This power was programmed into her by Jeb Batchelder (contact info: 666-555-9876 w) and he is available to answer questions at any time. He also programmed her memory to recall things from inside the womb onward._

_11/17: At the moment subject 17 is part of a test that is crucial to the survival of our avian experiment. She is still unaware that this experiment is taking place in her own body. We are combining 100h + 98h + 2a to discover if the result will have any avian DNA or not, and if so, how much. A small amount of Eraser hormone (1mL) was injected into her bloodstream, shortening the experiment time period by approximately 8x. In this time we will send out agents to collect the results of the experiment from her. We attempted this once before one month previously without the lupine hormone, but because of unfortunate manhandling, the experiment was lost. This time we added hormone and are making sure to keep the experiment locked up._

_11/21: We have just received word that both ends of the experiment have escaped from captivity. But it doesn't matter now. With the Eraser hormone added, there is no way the experiment can be lost at this point – even four days is too long to turn back. The experiment is on 100%._

My hands started getting clammy, and I had to put down the papers to wipe them on Fang's sweater. Then I wiped them on the sweater again.

An experiment taking place in my body? I didn't like the sound of that. I didn't like it at all. There was only one thing that all this information could add up to, and just the thought of it gave me a kind of lightheaded feeling like I was going to faint. The line "…shortening the experiment time period by approximately 8x" made me feel even more faint. 8 times shorter? That gave me about five weeks. If the experiment was started on the seventeenth, and today's date was…the twenty-sixth, that was already nine days. That gave me twenty-nine days.

One line confused me, though. "We are combining 100h + 98h + 2a to discover if the result will have any avian DNA or not, and if so, how much." Did that mean - ? No, it couldn't.

But it had to.

I stood and dashed out of the room, the papers clutched in my hands. Rex called out, "Holly? What's wrong?" but I ignored him.

I was on a mission.

**!**

JPOV

Cory bounced on my hip as I walked into the cafeteria. I curled one arm snugly around him and headed for the line, my stomach growling. He reached for my hair and pulled on it happily, investigating each strand, picking the pieces apart with his clumsy fingers.

I grabbed a tray, balancing him precariously, and set it on the metal bars. It was then that I noticed that it had gotten very quiet in the room. I glanced at the red-headed baby, who brushed my cheek with his hand.

_-noise?-_

So even Cory noticed it. I looked around at the crowd behind me, seeing them all hastily look down at their food when I met their gazes.

Okay, really? I wasn't _this_ famous. Something was up.

I grabbed a slice of pizza and some chips before heading over to the cashier and paying for my lunch. I didn't need to buy anything for Cory – the bright lights of the cafeteria would do just fine for him. The cashier didn't even blink at Cory's mouthlessness – the two of us had become a pretty common sight around here these days.

But this was a whole new crowd. I turned with the tray in my hand and a bottle of water squeezed between my elbow and my side and headed for an empty table. As I passed, the people grew quiet, and then followed be with their gazes as soon as I had passed. Frowning a little now, I set down my food at the table and then headed over to the high chairs in the corner.

As I approached the chairs, I heard one mom whose back was to me talking. She didn't realize that I was approaching, and kept on with what she was saying. "-clear he doesn't even know how to handle his kid. He needs to get a stroller or something to make things like this easier. Look at him! Where's the mother? I bet she left him, seeing as he's so young – he can't be a day over sixteen. Especially with all those pierc-"

"Mom!" hissed her blond daughter. She motioned to me, and the mom turned around so fast she almost spilled her healthy little salad. I just stood there, a little bit frozen.

It got even quieter in the cafeteria now. Without even looking, I knew every eye in the room was focused on us.

"Excuse me, miss," I said, tapping her shoulder. I gave her my biggest smile. "I couldn't help but overhear your little rant. I'd just like to tell you that Cory –" here Cory turned, showing his mouthless face "-is actually _not mine." _I said the last part extra loud so that everyone in the cafeteria could hear it loud and clear.

Cory smiled and tugged on my hair some more. I stretched my smile wider, half-wishing I had snake bites in my lip to creep her out with. "Please be careful with your assumptions," I added, and moved on, leaving both the mom and her little blond girl tomato red.

"Oh, my God, Mom," the girl said, and I smirked to myself before grabbing a chair and dragging it back to my seat. Every family I passed, I gave a bright smile to, and when I passed by the same family, I put down the seat and turned to the blond girl, who was about thirteen or fourteen.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I introduced myself," I said, holding out my hand to her. The cafeteria got quiet again. "The name's Jordan Seymour. It's a pleasure."

The girl's jaw dropped, and her lips moved silently. Her face went red again.

"P-pleasure," she breathed. She shook my hand slowly before dropping it in awe. _Almost like she's meeting a famous person,_ I smirked to myself. I dropped her hand and turned with a cheery wave before picking up the chair again and dragging it away, letting it bounce over the carpet.

When I arrived back at the table, I plopped Cory into the chair and then sat down myself. "Ah, man, this is good," I groaned, finally sinking my teeth into the slice of pizza. I chewed, swallowed, and then said to Cory seriously, "Okay, little man, you do _not_ know what you're missing out on. Seriously. The whole mind-projecting thing you do is pretty beast, but if I had to sacrifice pizza for it?...Never in a million years."

Cory's eyes crinkled up in a happy sort of way, and I grinned back at him, taking another bite of pizza. I unscrewed my water, handing him the cap to fidget with. Yeah, with Cory you can pretty much screw the "Caution: Choking Hazard. Not For Children Under 3 Years" rule.

Then I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and almost choked on my water. Recovering with admirable speed, I leapt out of my seat and nearly sprinted over to the doorway, where Holly was standing with a kind of dazed expression on her face.

"Holly!" I said when I reached her. She nearly jumped out of her jacket and turned to face me. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you," she said. She looked at my feet. She was pale, sweaty and a little green looking. Actually she looked like she was about to upchuck her lunch.

"Hey. You OK?"I asked her nervously. "You don't look so good."

"I just…I think I need to sit down," she muttered. Her eyes were darting crazily all over the place. Worry began to build in my chest.

"Sure thing," I said. "Come sit with me and Cory." I led her over to our table, making sure she was still following me the entire time. Her walk was slightly unsteady, and when she got to the table, she allowed me to pull out the seat for her before collapsing in it.

I sat gingerly in my own seat, my pizza now lying forgotten on the plate. "What's going on?" I asked her.

"Jordan…I wouldn't be telling you, except that…well, this involves you. When Nifty had her accident, she and Rex were at the School, getting files from the computer system. Files on us – well, the three of us, as well as Cory and some others. Anyway, they managed to print the files before they…had to leave…"

She looked down at her lap. "Anyway," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Rex and I were reading some files up there, and…and…I found this." She reached inside her jacket and pulled out a paper. Handing it to me, she slumped down on the table. "Just read it," she said, her voice muffled.

Narrowing my eyes in concern, I looked down at the paper. I read it over. Then read it again, not getting it. It took another time for the information I was seeing to absorb into my brain.

My ears started ringing, and I swear there was a loud crashing noise as my entire world flipped upside down. I lowered the paper with a shaking hand to stare at Holly.

She looked up at me, her arms stretched in front of her, her hair flowing over her back. Her eyes were bloodshot.

"Did you get it yet?" she said.

Somehow, my brain found and activated the switches it needed to make my head nod. "So…who's the…who's the…?"

That's when her earlier words hit me. _Jordan…I wouldn't be telling you, except that…well, this involves you. _My eyes widened in horror.

"Me? But…but we never…"

"We didn't need to," Holly said, her voice shaking. "This is the Institute we're talking about. They can do that sort of thing through surgery, don't you get it?"

I thought of the blue stitches running down my abdomen and had to struggle to hold back a groan. _No…it can't be…_

"Yes," she said. "It's true. I'm pregnant, Jordan. And you're the father."

**KK LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

**YOU KNOW HOW! THE BUTTON IS RIGHT THERE…**

**vvvv**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: At my friend(s) Olivia (and Ellie)'s insistence, I am now writing a new chapter, even though I fear that the only people still reading this are my school friends and my Beta (the lovely journey21). Well, whatever. _I'm_ still in love with this story and I _am _going to finish it until it's over. **

**Disclaimer: Um….JP owns and I own…uh…something. The inability to successfully press the "." button without typing "," or "/", I guess.**

"AAAARGHH!"

That was the noise I woke up to four mornings later. My eyes flew open at the agonized yell, and I bolted upright, almost hitting my head on the bottom of Nifty's bed. I gave it a quick death glare and then ran out of the room in what I was using for pajamas, the small dress that I'd been wearing when I escaped the Institute with Jordan and Fang's jacket.

I skidded out of the hospital room and down the hall to the restrooms where I was sure the yell came from. I put my hands on the first door I saw and pushed it open.

The bathroom inside looked strange. Probably because it was the boy's room. I was about to back out and hope no one saw me when I saw Rex.

He was standing in front of the mirror with his eyes closed and his mouth open. He had his bangs pushed up over his forehead, and the scales down his chest were drenched in sweat.

"Holly," he said, "come look at this."

The urgency in his voice was strange. How did he know I'd come in? His eyes were closed. Feeling a little uneasy, I walked towards the boy in the mirror.

He turned towards me, his eyes still closed. His fingers were covering his forehead, and as I watched, his fingers slowly spread apart. I was expecting acne or something, but what I saw was even worse.

Two eyes blinked back at me from Rex's forehead.

I gave a yell of alarm and leapt back from the boy, almost falling onto the trash can. I steadied myself and stared at Rex in shock.

"What in the WORLD is THAT?" I gasped.

"Um…" said Rex, opening his other eyes. "I have _no idea!"_

It was really bizarre, seeing four large eyes blinking at me. The top two eyes were the same as the bottom ones had been before the contacts: large, white, white tiny pupils and no color. The bottom ones of course had the green-blue colored contacts because he didn't really have that good of vision.

"When did this happen?" I asked, breathing hard.

"I don't know," Rex said. "I mean, over the past few weeks my forehead has been hurting a lot, and then a while later I felt these weird dent things and then I woke up this morning and went into the bathroom – I splashed my face with water like I do every morning, and I just looked in the mirror and I saw these black lines on my forehead. I kind of rubbed them and then they just _opened._ And suddenly I had _two points of view_ of my fingers. It's the freaking weirdest thing _ever."_

I nodded fervently. "I would say, 'I can imagine', but I probably can't."

Rex blinked all four eyes at me. I finished breathing hard and pushed myself off the wall. I was making my way over to him when the door burst open and in came Jordan, also in pajama pants and no shirt.

"What in the world –" he said, his gaze landing on me. Then he saw Rex, and his mouth dropped open.

"Haaaaahhh…" he said, backing into the door.

Since Jordan looked like he was about to puke, I muttered "I'll leave you to it" and pushed my way out of the boy's room and into the girl's room next door. I looked at the clock on the wall – 6:54 A.M., way too early for anyone else to be up. I glanced into the mirror and stepped up to look closer.

I looked pretty horrible. Dark circles ringed my eyes, making the normally bright blue look dead. My hair was limp; the short strands on top falling down past my ears, the long part hanging like an ill-fitting wig. Fang's jacket hung over my body, draping my figure in a thoroughly revolting manner. It slouched over my body, curving a little over my stomach, dirt stains -

Wait.

_Curving a little over my stomach?_

Not. Flipping. Possible.

I yanked down the zipper on Fang's jacket and pushed my hips toward the mirror. Sure enough, there was a tiny bulge. It would have looked perfectly normal on anyone else - maybe a little bit of fat, like most people had. But I didn't _have_ any extra body fat. Years of physical stress had made sure of that. And it was definitely possible that I could have gained some weight from actually eating a healthy amount of food every day, but there was no way that it could have made _that much_ change in just a week.

This wasn't happening. Not _this fast._

I breathed in and out, trying to control my breathing and heart rate. Turning my body to the side, I examined my profile, trying to see how obvious it was.

The door banged open and my eyes shot up. Jordan stood in the doorway, looking at me with a kind of dazed expression on his face.

"So Rex had four eyes now," he said fervently.

"I...uh...yeah, I guess," I said, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He sighed.

"Is anyone else in there with you?" he asked.

"N-no," I stammered, remembering my place. I jumped guiltily, but it was too late: he'd already seen me checking out my body. I zipped up my jacket with lightning speed, and his eyes followed the movement.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his eyes dropping to my midsection.

"I'm showing," I blubbered. "It's been thirteen days and I'm already showing."

Jordan's eyes rose to meet mine, alarmed. I had to struggle to keep myself under control as my mind attempted to have a mental breakdown.

"What are you going on about?" he breathed.

"I just - they used Eraser hormone, so it's going to be about a five week timespan images of the traditional nine months. I knew that when I figured out that I was pregnant, but I didn't realize it was going to be this _fast_ - the second trimester freaking started _yesterday_, Jordan. I have twenty three days left to figure out what the _hell_ I'm going to do and-"

"Wait. Wait. I get that stuff. Calm down, Holly, you're hyperventilating." He stepped closer, and before I could react he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close for a hug. I shivered against his bare skin, still feeling panicky.

"So explain something to me," he said after I had calmed down a little. "What, exactly, do you mean by 'showing'?"

"I mean, my stomach," I said, the panicked feeling beginning to creep back. "My stomach's already getting bigger. It's like those films where they tape a plant growing over months and then fast forward so that it's only a few minutes long. Like that."

He grunted. "So basically, you've only - you've only -" He struggled. "Been - been - I mean, you know what I mean - for thirteen days. But it's already showing. Am I right?"

"Yes," I said, forcing myself to stay calm. "You got it."

"I see." He stepped away. "May I see how much?"

It was so polite, how he asked, considering as it was his kid, that I couldn't stop a nervous giggle from escaping my lips. He glanced up to see if I was laughing at him, and a tiny frown crossed his face when he found that I was. I mean, sure it was his kid, but it had been - had been _conceived_ - scientifically. The farthest Jordan and I had made it was one kiss, and we all knew how well _that_ ended up.

"Sure," I said, seeing as how I'd just totally laughed at him and all.

He knelt down right there, on the bathroom floor. His hand hovered over the zipper pull on Fang's jacket, but then he grasped it firmly and tugged it down, the ends disconnecting with a crisp snap. I pulled the dress taut over my stomach and he peered at it. I turned a little so that he could see it from a better angle.

When he looked back up at me, his expression was a mix of a bunch of things: eager, apologetic, bashful, maybe a little embarrassed...?

"Can I...touch...?"

He sounded like a puppy dog asking to come in out of the rain. I nodded, my eyes narrowing in attempt to hide the emotion on my face as his stocky fingers reached out, hesitated; then went on and made contact.

As soon as he touched me, it felt like someone had injected a shot full of hormone into me (which had happened once before - I had nearly tackled Rex and would even have kissed Total and to this day have not lived it down). My body was suddenly flooded with desire - and for what, I didn't know. But he feeling grew stronger as his hand explored my belly.

He must have sensed something, because he looked up at me. I imagine my expression must have been something to see, because his hand froze. Given about ten more seconds our next act probably would not have been rated PG (probably more in the R category) but at that moment the door opened.

(It always does, just at the right moment. Has anyone else here noticed that? Because I sure have.)

A blond woman and girl walked into the room, and Jordan jumped up guiltily, his head almost connecting with the top of my chin in his haste. His body was so close to me it made the desire even stronger, if that was possible. But Jordan was watching the figures in the doorway with a pretty horrified expression on his face.

The woman looked furious. The daughter looked slightly awestruck.

"Hello, Jordan Seymour," she said in a slightly worshipful voice.

Jordan swallowed, his expression going kind of twisted like he smelled something sour. His glance flickered back and forth uncertainly between the woman and the girl, his breathing shallow.

"You're - you're -"

"I am apparently an idiot," the woman said angrily. "I knew the name Seymour sounded familiar somehow. Then I remembered - you're Jennifer and Don Seymour's son, aren't you?"

Jordan's face was ashen. His chest was moving quickly under my hands. I glanced up into his stormy gray eyes, which were unfocused; his forehead shiny and sheeny.

"Okay, Miss Blast-From-The-Past," I said, stepping away from Jordan. "I don't know who you think you are, or what you're doing or how you know Jordan, but you better stay away from us. Anyone who makes my man react like that is officially the Biggest Loser in my book. You have no right to march in here like that and say those things to a person. Jordan's been through a lot lately and I'd appreciate it if you just backed off and kept your flipping distance. Jordan doesn't need some creepy older lady like you stalking him. Now if you'll excuse us. Nice meeting you."

I snatched up Jordan's arm and pulled him from the bathroom. He stumbled after me down the hall to Nifty's room.

When we got inside, I settled him down on the couch. "Hey. You okay? What happened back there?" I whispered, seeing Nifty and Rex both asleep. (Rex must have been really tired to wake up to having four eyes and then just decide to go back to bed. Maybe he was just hoping it was a dream.)

Jordan sighed and shook his head. "Those people were friends of my parents. I'd begun to let my guard down. I knew my parents wouldn't stop looking for me, but I was hoping that by now they might have given up. I don't know. But that's why I was so shocked to see her - and she'll probably go straight to Mo - Jennifer. I just...aarg."

He put his head in his hands. I unfurled one wing and wrapped it around him, spreading the tips out across his shoulder. He startled a little, then jerkily turned towards the feathers. He didn't ask this time, just reached out and stroked the long white feathers, marred only by the black spots that peppered them. I shivered at the feeling, and he turned toward me.

"You can feel that?" he asked, his voice still a whisper. I nodded, my eyes drawn to his. He leaned a bit closer.

"What else can you feel?" he asked, but didn't give me a chance to answer before he kissed me. It was short, hard. Another followed, then another, each one getting longer.

"Jordan -" I said, trying to get it out. "Jordan, stop." He ignored me, continuing to kiss me. Blood was roaring in my ears. A small part of my brain was clamoring to be heard, the part going, _Stop, this is wrong! Stop it, Holly!_ But the rest of my brain was still reeling from earlier, in the bathroom, when his touch had ignited every sense in my body.

To my horror, I realized that I had been kissing him back while I was contemplating all this. I quickly broke away, turning my face down so that he couldn't see my lips.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. A trace of hurt was in the papery rasp.

"I just...I don't think we should," I said.

He was breathing hard, his breath coming in short, quick pants over my face. Our foreheads were touching. "Why not?" he whispered, fast against me. I took a deep breath, using the last of my crumbling willpower to speak instead of turn my face back to his, which was what I wanted to do.

"Jordan, it's not…not right…" _How am I possibly refusing a shirtless Jordan? _I didn't even know.

"That's all you can come up with?" he murmured, his voice cracking. "I thought – I thought I was "your man", Holly. Weren't you just saying that?"

My mind went blank. "I just – I have _wings,_ Jordan…you don't want to be –"

"Don't tell me what I want and don't want," he interrupted me. "I don't care about the wings. I just –"

"I need to go," I said, using the last crumb of my willpower. "I'm not giving in. I won't mess you up in my life. You think I want this? I don't. I won't let you get hurt. This is for you."

I stood and strode out of the room, even though all I wanted to do was go back.

**!**

I ended up down at the library, in the children's section, aiming for the cushy denim beanbag chair. Feeling more than a little self-conscious in my PJ's, I settled into the giant pillow. I really hoped Jordan wouldn't follow me. It was taking everything I had not to go back up there and not refuse him. I blamed it on the hormones. I'd told myself a long time ago I wasn't falling for a singer like him. So why was I?

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I was so, so tired; still, my brain refused to sleep. I imagined a small war within my mind – one side with a flag depicting a brain, one with a body. The side with the brain flag suddenly loaded their guns, took aim, and fired. Holes peppered the flag with the body. All the minions of the body fell to the ground, while the ones of the brain danced happily on their bodies screaming for blood.

I drifted in and out of sleep, half awake, half slumbering. I recalled that, for once, I didn't have a cast; no stitches, no Band-Aids, nothing. Just scars criss-crossing my chest, pulling my lip up a little on the right side. I'd have a Perma-Smile for the rest of my life –not necessarily a bad thing. Better than a Perma-Frown. I hoped I could keep myself injury-free for a while.

"Holly?"

Blearily, I opened my eyes. I peered down the aisle, trying to make my vision focus. I saw a blob of white with some brown perched above it – Nifty. My vision cleared, and I smiled. "Hey, girl. Wanna come sit?"

She came over unsteadily, a nurse following anxiously behind her. I held out my hand, and she took it, lowering herself into the beanbag next to mine and curling up just like a kitten. I glanced at the nurse. "I'll call if anything happens," I said, and she nodded and left.

"How are you?" I asked Nifty.

She shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I mean, considering." She gave a weak smile. "It'd be better if people weren't constantly tiptoeing around me, you know? But I guess…" She sounded sad. "It'll probably be like that for a while."

"It doesn't have to be," I said. I shifted so that I was leaning against the side of the chair. "If you act strong, then everyone will realize you _are _strong. That you don't need people to treat you like that because you're disabled. You know?"

Her eyes filled with tears. "But I don't want to act. I just want to be me. I just…" She took a shuddering breath. "I just want to be normal."

"But _you_ are strong," I said. "That _is_ who you are. This girl isn't who you are. You just…oh, come here."

I held out my arms, and she leaned into them, crying. I squeezed her tightly, moving my arm under her stump so I wouldn't hurt her, rubbing her back, stroking her short auburn hair. She cried into Fang's jacket, letting it all out into the worn black material.

After a few minutes, she had calmed down a little. I put my hand under his chin and lifted her head to mine, wiping the tears from her freckly face. She opened her gold eyes and looked at me, water clinging to her lashes.

"I just…missed you so much," she said, her eyes filling again.

"I know. I know," I said. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Another tear slid down, and I wiped it off. "Be careful, you'll smear your freckles," I said, and she gave a weak laugh, breaking the tension. Before long, we were both laughing, each chuckle catching in Nifty's throat. I opened my arms again, and this time she hugged me fiercely, her one arm clutching me to her.

"I'm just so glad to see you again," she said.

"I know."

**I don't feel like ending on a cliffhanger, so this is where I'mma stop. Very emotional chap! RnR?**

**vvvvv**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: Hey all. It's been too long, guys. I wonder why? I guess it's just the usual rejection. Boys suck. –makes angry face and then proceeds to kill everyone in the near vicinity- Gah.**

**Oh, also: The lovely journey21 has resigned as Beta. -tear- Everyone please give her a round of applause for sticking with this unpopular story for so freaking long. Go check her out!**

**Warning: There's a little swearing later on but I think you guys can handle it.**

**Standard Disclaimer: Enabled.**

Nifty stayed in the hospital for another week. Slowly she began to learn how to live with just one hand. Dressing was nearly impossible for her, so I helped her whenever I could. Have you ever tried to button your jeans with just one hand? It was especially difficult for her since she was left-handed, and that was the side that had been...forcibly removed. But she was coming back. Nifty had always had the incredible ability to bounce back from basically anything, and this was no different. Slowly she was standing back up.

Rex on the other hand was a whole 'nother story. He had woken up that day and realized that the four-eyes thing was in fact not a dream. It was Rex, so of course he'd instantly started freaking out.

He was still freaking out.

Of course.

It was evening on Nifty's second-to-last night at the hospital. I was helping her get undressed when she said, "Holly, what is going on with you and Jordan?"

I froze, my hands in the air. I'd been helping her take off her T-shirt and change into the gown, and one hand was holding the fabric above her head while the other pried the sleeve away from her still heavily bandaged arm.

"Err...haha, what do you mean?" I laughed nervously. "Me and Jordan? Heh...nothing?"

My voice rose at the end like it was a question, and I cringed. She pulled her head through the hole in her shirt and stared at me with a calculating look on her face.

"What?" I said.

"You two haven't spoken a word to each other in a week, and whenever he walks in you start blushing like a schoolgirl."

"Ha...what are you talking about?" I laughed, feeling my cheeks flame more. "No I don't."

"Yes you do," she said, pulling off the shirt herself. She stood in front of me in her jeans and a bra, allowing me to see her freckle-covered body. "Seriously. What's going on? I'll be your best friend..."

"You are."

"Then tell me!"

My hands dropped to my stomach, which was growing still faster. She didn't follow the movement. "He, uh...tried to kiss me?"

"WHAT?"

I shrank back from her. "Um..."

"What do you mean, _tried?_ Did he get one in or not?"

"One? ...No." More like five. Or ten. "...Maybe..."

"Oh, my God! He did?" She hopped around, her tail waving excitedly behind her. "Holly, that's awesome! So what did you do? I bet you guys totally made out."

"No, that's not..."

"Oh, no - I bet you guys made out for a little bit and then he asked you out and now you two are totally in love!"

"If that was what happened, why would he be avoiding me?" I said crossly.

_"He's_ not avoiding _you,_ _you're_ avoiding _him_," she pointed out. Then her face fell. "...Oh. He _didn't_ ask you out, then. He pulled a hit and run. Like a one night stand."

"No!" I exclaimed, my cheeks flaming again at the one night stand bit. "No! I left him. I let it get too far."

"You...left..._him?"_ she whispered, her voice awed. "But..."

"I count it as one of my biggest accomplishments," I muttered. "Refusing a shirtless hot guy." Especially that particular shirtless hot guy.

"He was...SHIRTLESS?" she screeched.

I covered my ears. "It was morning!" I said defensively. "Rex doesn't sleep in a shirt either!"

"Yeah, but...but Rex isn't as...isn't as hot as Jordan!" she exclaimed. "Why, Holly! Why would you leave him like that?"

"I didn't want him to get too tangled up in me," I said, and then realized my mistake too late. "I mean - I mean -"

"That's what she said," Nifty giggled, then sobered up. "But seriously! Holly, the poor thing. You need to apologize to him, if it's not just for the cold shower he no doubt had to take afterwards."

I blushed down to the roots of my hair. "It didn't get that hot," I mumbled.

"Oh." She looked disappointed. Turning around to grab the gown, she handed it to me. "Help me?"

"Of course." I held it open for her so that she could put one arm inside. "Look, it wasn't that big of a deal," I said as she put her head through.

"Not that big a deal?" she exclaimed. "What are you talking about? You're no longer a lip virgin!"

"But I don't even...like him or anything," I insisted. "I mean, as a friend, yes. But as a boyfriend, no."

"Jeez, I can't believe you got your first kiss before I did," she moaned. "Gosh. Was he a good kisser? Maybe I should kiss him too."

"No!"

The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. She smirked, and I realized she'd gotten what she wanted. "So maybe you _do _like him...as more than a friend?"

"Of course not..."

"Well, why not? He's super hot. He's nice. He's super hot. He's gentle. Did I mention he's super hot? Plus, just look at how he hangs out with Cory all the time. He loves kids. Someday, he'd make a good fath-"

"Don't! Do not finish that sentence!" I cried, pressing my hands over my ears. "Don't even think about finishing that sentence!" To my horror, I felt my eyes sting. _It's the hormones, it's the hormones,_ I thought feverishly to myself, but the tears came anyway. _Stop crying, right now, or else she'll guess!_

_Well, it doesn't matter. I have sixteen days left. She'll find out anyway._

"Holly?" Nifty said, her voice concerned. "What's the matter, honey?"

"Nothing...Let's change the subject. So, uh, isn't it so bizarre how Rex -"

"Holly." Nifty's voice was firm. "We're not changing the subject until you tell me what the hell's wrong with you."

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong." I jammed my fists into my jacket pocket, not looking at her. Instead, I examined the wall of her room, pretending that this was the first time I'd seen it instead of the sixty-six millionth.

"Holly, you better tell me right now or else I'll -"

She stopped in the middle of her sentence. I waited for her to finish, but when she didn't, I looked over at her to see her staring at me in shock, her eyes wide and moving rapidly between my face and my midsection. Too late I realized that I'd pulled the fabric on my jacket taut, thereby exposing the bump.

"What did he do to you?" she said quietly, anger burning through her voice.

All of a sudden, I couldn't hold myself up anymore. I fell to my knees, then rocked back on my ankles, burying my face in my hands. I felt the tears sting again, but this time I didn't try to hide them.

"Holly, what the hell did that bastard do to you?" Her voice was now low and furious. "Answer me now."

"It wasn't...It wasn't him."

"Then who the hell was it? Tell me right now, goddamn it!"

"It was...it was the whitecoats."

"When?"

"It was when...when me and Jordan were gone for so long. I was in the hospital, and...and they got us there. And when...when we were at the Institute, they did a surgery...they needed a human, see, and he was just available..."

"But why?"

"They wanted a test...would the kid come out with wings or without them? Would it be normal or would it be a..." Here I let out a strangled laugh. "A freak?"

"But this was, like, two, three weeks ago. No way it could be happening this fast. You can still get rid of it, Holly!"

"N-no...they added Eraser hormone to my blood, so it's about eight times faster than normal. Each trimester is...is twelve days. And it's been twenty days now."

"Does he know?"

"Does he know?" I let out another strangled laugh. "Does he _know?_ Well, yeah, he knows. I reckon that's why he's been spending so much time with Cory, because he's...he's going to be a father, isn't he? But it doesn't matter. They'll come and get the kid the second it...it comes out. It was all in those files I read...they'll send someone to come get the 'data'..."

"So you didn't actually have sex with him."

"Thank God, there's one upside to this whole thing."

"When did you find out?"

"The day we opened those files for the first time."

"And you've been holding this in this /entire time?/"

"Uh...yes?" I looked up and gave her a weak smile. "Well, I told Jordan about it, but...I wouldn't have if it hadn't been his -"

The side of my face exploded in pain. I gripped my cheek in shock and looked up at Nifty, who was breathing hard, her hand still raised after slapping me.

"What the -"

"Fool!" she cried. "You are even stupider than I thought you were, Holly. Goddammit, if something like this ever happened I thought sure you'd come to me. Me and Rex. We've always been here for you. You can't keep something this big from your two best friends in the world!"

Clutching my cheek, I let my head fall to my chest.

"...I'm sorry."

**!**

JPOV

The first time we met...My gaze locked on the girl, and my heart stopped... Her eyes, the life fading from the blue..

Our first kiss...The feel of her smooth lips on mine...then, one white wing stretching up to the sky while her head was violently pulled backwards... The terror in her eyes when she saw my face...

Seeing her in the cage...her face dejected, her body defeated, ready for anything, anyone...her eyes dull, lifeless...

Waking up to her face...in the hospital, seeing the worry in her eyes melt into relief and then harsh denial...

In the cafeteria...when she'd told me that she was pregnant with my child...seeing her body broken over the table, her expression making my heart freeze over...her eyes dead.

In the bathroom...hyperventilating over the swell.../It's starting already/... Her eyes, the pain, the fear...and then, the desire..._Can I...touch...?_ Passion burning behind her orbs...

In the hospital room...kissing her again...feeling her kiss back, and then...the rejection... _I don't think we should... Why not?... Jordan, it's not… not right… ... That's all you can come up with?...I thought … I thought I was "your man", Holly. Weren't you just saying that?... I just - I have wings, Jordan.. you don't want to be -…...Don't tell me what I want and don't want...I don't care about the wings. I just... …I need to go...I'm not giving in. I won't mess you up in my life. You think I want this? I don't. I won't let you get hurt. This is for you..._

Her forehead, soft under mine...her nose brushing my own, and her eyes, darting over the floor. _This is for you..._

I woke with a start, breathing hard.

I'd had that dream - that _nightmare_ - every night since Holly had left me out on the couch. I always woke up in a cold sweat.

This has got to stop, I thought to myself. Today's the day. I'm gonna make things right.

I swung out of bed, lacing Becca's dog tags over my neck and then getting dressed. I pulled my hair into a ponytail, just to try something new, and then headed to Nifty's room to pick up Cory before I went for breakfast.

Poking my head inside, I saw Nifty still asleep in her bed with Holly curled up next to her. Nifty had her arm wrapped around Holly as she slept, in an almost protective gesture. Did she know? Did Holly tell her? More importantly, did Holly tell her _all the details?_ My skin heated up as I thought about what the catlike girl must think of me now if she didn't. _Oh, Jesus._ I quickly grabbed Cory from his bassinet (the hospital did have a maternity ward and so they'd been able to lend us one) and all but ran from the room.

Heading down the stairs, I thought about my dream some more. Making up my mind, I stopped at the pay phone, fed it some change, and quickly dialed a number.

"Hello, this is Peter, how can I help you?"

"Hey, Peter, this is Jordan."

"Jordan! Hey, my man, _where the hell are you?"_

"I'm...around. Hey, I was wondering if I could come in for a photoshoot today. I think I got an ideal cover image."

"You do realize that we're almost a month behind schedule, right?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Can you send a taxi to the general hospital? I can meet one there around noon."

"Okay, buddy, but you owe me an explanation for that concert you missed after you disappeared off the face of the earth."

"Uh...okay, dude. See you."

Peter was the man who owned and operated the label that I was signed to. It was a small one, and he'd just opened it up recently. There was currently only one other band signed there, but they were huge already.

I headed down to the cafeteria for breakfast and grabbed some boxed cereal. Keeping tight hold of Cory, I looked around quickly to check for empty seats. Jennifer's friend was finally gone, thank God. I sat and started cramming the dry cereal in my mouth, not bothering with civilized things like, say, a bowl or milk or a spoon.

"Hey, dude."

I looked up, my mouth full of cereal. It was Rex. He pulled out a chair as I saluted him, nodding and chewing frantically. As soon as I swallowed enough of the cereal to make talking physically possible, I said, "Hey, dude, yourself."

"Cute little bugger, isn't he?" Rex said. He patted Cory's head, then frowned and rearranged his bangs, carefully patting them down. I caught a glimpse of white before he tucked it away.

"What's up, Rex?"

"Nothing much. Just, uh, wanted to have a little guy talk." Rex folded his scaly fingers on the table, twisting his hands. I folded some more cereal in my mouth, feeling a little uneasy.

"What about?" I crunched.

"Well, um..." He twisted harder. I swallowed.

"Look, man," I said, "if you don't want to talk, you don't have to."

"No, I do," he said. "It's about Holly."

My gut clenched and my skin broke out in a cold sweat. _Act calm._ I popped some more cereal in my mouth. "Wha abou' 'er?" I said with my mouth full.

Rex looked hard at me. "Is she pregnant?"

I choked on my cereal.

"Excuse me?" I hacked.

"She's been acting weird," Rex pressed. "She's been way too emotional lately. Her physical body has been looking bad - stressed. Plus she's been swelling. A lot. In the stomachal area. And it's not just from the hospital food."

"Is stomachal even a word?" At his angry face, I quickly backtracked. "Er, sorry. Um...why don't you ask her?"

He looked abashed. "'Cause that would be really awkward?"

I groaned. "How would I know if she was...if she was preg -" I stopped, unable to finish. Then I said, "She doesn't tell me anything."

"'Cause you're the only one who could be the father," he said harshly. "You were gone for a long time and you still haven't told us what you were doing. For all I know you were rolling around in the hay that entire time."

I gagged. "Ew. Please don't even say that," I said. "I'm sorry, but that's just nasty."

"So is she pregnant or not?"

"Um...yeah."

"And you're the father."

"Yeah, but look-it's not like that, okay, we never had sex. We just got our asses kicked by some whitecoats and they did some surgery and stuff. I'll even show you the scar if you want."

Rex sighed heavily. "Yeah, it's all fun and games until your ass gets royally kicked." He sighed and scratched the underside of his chin. "So when did this happen, exactly?"

I shrugged. "I couldn't tell you the exact date. She thinks she's about halfway through the second trimester now." Although now that I thought about it, I was nearly positive that those numbers didn't match up.

"Oh, so you still have a couple months left still."

"More like a week or two," I said into my cereal.

He choked now. "What?"

"Oh, you know," I said, waving my hand, "Eraser hormones and all that."

"Oh, that," Rex breathed, and promptly passed out.

"Yes, my friend," I murmured. "It is truly all fun and games until someone gets their ass royally kicked."

**!**

HPOV

"You want me to do _what?"_

I looked at Jordan's weakly grinning face. He'd caught me in the hall, and at first I was going to duck my head and quickly walk by, but he'd put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at his face to see his gray eyes smiling questioningly.

Then he had said it.

"I want you to be on the cover of my album," he repeated.

"But hasn't it already been released?" I said, looking back at the ground. "I mean, you said -"

"Ahh, well -" He scratched the back of his head. "The whole thing with us being gone or whatever kinda screwed that up. Anyway, Holly, we talked about this before. Fang shot us straight out of the water, remember? Good ol' Fangles. If he hadn't done that, maybe we'd be on schedule."

Despite the awkwardness I felt, I still had to laugh. "Fangles?"

He laughed too. "So, you up for it?"

I shrugged. "Sure." I was sick of feeling awkward around Jordan. I just wanted to get past...that. Looks like he did too. But I knew he wasn't going to give up. It wasn't his style.

"I talked to Rex about it already," he said. "And he said he'd let Nifty know. Umm...yeah." For some reason he blushed madly when he said Nifty. I rolled my eyes, and then stopped for a second, remembering her words.

"Did something happen?" I asked.

"Haha, no." Jordan relaxed, his shoulders drooping. I pushed that thought out of my mind. _What are you? A jealous wife? I thought you decided you DIDN'T LIKE HIM!_

"Shall we go?" he said.

"H-huh? Now?" I said, startled.

"Yeah," he said, checking his watch. "Peter said he'd send a cab at noon, and it's ten til now. We should probably head out."

"Uh, I guess," I said. He turned and went down the hall, letting me follow him slowly. It was happening so fast...but so what? I didn't have problems with getting my photo taken. It had happened so many times before that I didn't think much of it anymore.

We went outside. My mind flashed to the last time Jordan and I had left a hospital together...No. Not gonna think about that. He stood at the curb looking at me out of the corner of his eye whenever he thought I wasn't looking.

A taxi pulled up, and a window rolled down. Jordan went up to it, nodding his head. Then he went around to the side and opened the door. I pointed at myself.

"For me? Aw, you shouldn't have," I said, climbing inside. I almost fell over into the seat, and had to grab the back of the passenger seat to support myself.

"Are you alright, Holly?" Jordan asked, sounding concerned.

"Yes." It was a little snappy, but whatever. I was so, so over this whole pregnancy thing. It was like a bad joke - I was just done.

He slid in next to me and closed the door. The taxi peeled away from the curb, and Jordan slid the sliding thing closed so that the driver wouldn't be able to hear us.

"Seriously. Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I sighed and folded my hands over my belly, fondly remembering the days when I was just your typical mutant. "Hey, why do you want me for this anyway?" I said. "I mean, I'm definitely showing by now. You really want this on the cover of your album?" I gestured to my midsection.

He looked surprised. "Well, it probably won't get in, but if it does, then no I won't mind. It's not a big deal."

We rode in silence for a bit, and then he leaned forward and rested his head on the seat in front of him. "I'm just sick of this," he said. "I feel like I'm trying to handle you with kid gloves or something. It's not right. I need to be straight with you, or else...I don't know, but it's not healthy."

I closed my eyes. "Yeah, you're probably right," I said. "This is good for us to do."

"And the kid," said Jordan.

My lips sealed and I let us fall back into silence. This one, though, was way more awkward. Jordan looked up from the seat; his forehead was red from being pressed on the leather.

"Holly?"

"Hmm?" I looked at him, my eyes wide, pretending I didn't know what he was talking about.

He shook his head. "Never mind." Looking out of the window, his eyes widened. "Ah, look. We're here."

The taxi stopped and we climbed out. In front of us was a building that was multiple stories high, and several businesses wide. In front was a sign that said 'Useless Records.' Standing in the door was a man with black hair and a tight, dark t-shirt that showed off his tattoo sleeves. He grinned broadly when he saw Jordan and went forward to wrap him in a hug.

"Hey man! Feels like forever since I seen ya! Oh, wait - that's because it HAS been forever!"

"That would explain it," Jordan muttered.

The guy let go. "And who might this lovely lady be?" he asked, walking toward me. Jordan got there first. "This is my friend Holly. I think she's good for this whole thing."

"She's not...pregnant, is she?" the guy muttered, to quiet for a human to hear.

"Yeah, she is. She was like that, though. It's not my fault, I swear."

The guy snorted and then held out his hand. "Whatever, brah. I mean, if it floats your boat, then sure, fine. Anyway, sweetheart, the name's Peter. Come on in and let's see just what makes Jordan think you're so great."

He turned and went into the building. Jordan turned and held out his hand, and despite myself, I took it. I almost dropped it like it was a hot potato, but he squeezed reassuringly so I humored him.

Or so I told myself.

God, I was pathetic.

I pulled my wings in, which had been aching lately, and rubbed my shoulder. Jordan pulled me into a brightly lit room after Peter, where a few men were milling around with cameras and big screens hoisted into the air.

Jordan pulled me into the corner and put a hand seriously on my shoulder. I turned red from the contact and looked down, feeling him sigh but decide to ignore my behavior.

"Is it okay if we put your wings in the shot?"

"Huh?" I was so surprised at his request that my head snapped up, surprised. "My wings?"

"Shh. Yes, your wings. You know, since the most popular song is called "Fly On," and stuff. It would be totally awesome."

"Uh..." It was risky. If a whitecoat ever saw it, they might be able to trace it back to this studio - to Peter, and to Jordan, which I definitely didn't want. It was putting them in danger just by thinking about it.

Then I thought of Fang. If he ever saw it, he'd get so mad. Maybe he'd come looking for me. And then maybe I'd get to say goodbye to him for real.

"Sure," I said. Jordan looked relieved.

"Okay, I'm going to hand you over to the designers now. When they get done dressing you up, we can get started."

"Wh-what? Dressing me up?" I said, but he was already gone and the designers had ahold of me.

I stood there like a dummy while they pulled shirts off of the rack and held them up to me, trying to decide what they liked best. At one point I looked over at Jordan, who was covering his mouth with his hand. I shot him a Hairy Eyeball and snapped back to attention when one of the attendees handed me a pile of stuff and told me to go try it on.

I groaned.

"She's not going to need any particular pants, jeans will be fine," Jordan called, and then they took the stack back and pulled out all of the pants, eliminating about half of it. Passing the clothing back to me, I grasped it and went behind the screen in the corner.

Thus began my first fashion show. Many girls do these a lot when they're little, I guess. Unfortunately, when your wardrobe is limited to a flimsy paper gown, it kind of diminishes the appeal. I decided that the job of runway model was not anywhere in my future.

"Are we done yet?" I said wearily, stepping out in the fifth shirt, which had only one sleeve over the right shoulder.

Jordan shook his head and tapped his pencil on his knuckles. "No. Hang on, Holly. Just a few more."

"Fine," I grumbled, stepping back in the room. I pulled the shirt back over my head and stood silently in the room, looking down at my stomach, which was definitely visible by now. I rubbed my hand over the bump, which extended about three inches from my body, and pulled out another shirt, tossing it on without even looking at it and pulling the shades aside.

"This had better be the last one," I growled.

"It's only the sixth -" Jordan began, sounding exasperated, but then he stopped. His eyes widened.

"We have a winner," he said.

"What?" I looked down at the shirt, which was tied under my breasts and flowed in waves after that. It was dark blue fabric with tiny red and pink flowers, and the sleeves fluttered around my shoulders.

"You just like it 'cause it makes my boobs look big," I said crossly.

Everyone in the studio cracked up except Jordan, who turned bright red. "Let's get on with it," he said. "Do we need makeup?"

"Yes," someone said. "Come with me, dear." Before I could say anything, a small Asian-looking woman had gripped my shoulders and spun me down the hall toward a dressing room. She sat me down in front of a mirror and picked up her tools. I groaned again.

Unlike the first (and only) time I'd ever worn makeup, this was absolutely horrible. Last time I'd just kind of relaxed and let them do their thing. This time I was squirming the whole time, my palms sweating. It felt so unnatural to be wearing makeup, and as soon as I was done I sprang up with a quick 'thanks' and dashed back without even looking at it.

"You look nice," Peter commented.

"Do I now." I wasn't in the mood to play games. Having my face poked and prodded and brushed for that long was a one-way road to irritation. "Jordan? You so owe me for this."

"Yeah, yeah, I figured," Jordan said, waving his hands. "Okay, the stage is all yours."

What little talking there had been stopped and everyone looked at me curiously. I sighed and beckoned him over.

"Slit the back," I said, gesturing to the back of my shirt. He nodded and pulled out his Swiss Army knife, ripping two holes in the back of my shirt.

Someone said a loud, rude word.

"Sorry, I have to," Jordan said, stepping back. "Is that better, Holly?"

"Yeah," I said, and unfurled my wings.

Even Jordan looked a little awed. Peter was going to have to pick his jaw up off of the floor, and no one would be able to help him, since they'd all be too busy trying to push their eyes back into their sockets.

It felt amazing to really stretch them out. I hadn't been for a fly in so long, or even unfolded them - maybe even since Nifty got to the hospital. It had been too long. I missed my wings.

I rolled my shoulders. "That feels good," I said.

"Whaaaa...?" Peter breathed.

I looked at him. "What? It's not _that_ weird."

"Yes, it is," Jordan said firmly. "The only other person I've ever met with wings is your brother, and he was...never mind."

"What were you going to say?" I demanded.

"Nothing. Let's get on with it, guys. You didn't think I just brought her in because she's pretty, did you?"

Peter shrugged. "That seems likely."

"Well, she wouldn't have fit the name of the album otherwise," Jordan said. "I'm not _that_ shallow. Now come on, guys. Pull yourselves together. I thought you were pros."

Everyone jumped a little and then scurried off to their positions. I stood a little helplessly in the center of the room.

"So what do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Stand there," Jordan said, pointing. I folded my wings loosely on the outside of my shirt and went over between the big mounted white screens.

"Now what?"

"Face that wall. Yeah, and look towards it. Stretch out one arm like that, and can you put one wing back and curl the one not towards us in towards yourself?"

I did what he said. It felt awkward. "This is weird," I complained.

"Tough." He didn't show any mercy, started looking at me from different angles. He was a completely different person now; at home in the studio, shooting the cover for his delayed album. _Delayed because of me,_ I thought guiltily. Oh well. I was going to make up for it this way.

Finally they had my position down. The cameras began clicking furiously, the flashes blinding me. I felt famous. It was kind of a strange sensation, and I decided I'd leave the fame and fortune to the boy who was standing front and center, his pencil pressed to his lips in concentration.

I wasn't allowed to look at him. Keeping my eyes straight ahead at the blank wall was the hardest thing I'd ever done in my life - okay, well, maybe not, but at the time it felt like it. Eventually it was over, and I dropped my stance gratefully.

"Jeez," I said, rubbing my lower back. "You couldn't have picked a more uncomfortable position."

"You okay?" Jordan said, sounding a little concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I wasn't going to complain any more. I was strong. I could get through this. "When can we go?"

"Soon," he promised. "I just need to look through these, and then I'll decide. Go ahead and sit down."

I sank back into a directors chair and rested my head on my shoulder, a small smile on my lips as I watched Jordan bend over the cameras. My eyes slowly drifted shut, and I fell asleep.

_"What?" Unfamiliar voice, full of anger. _

_There is silence. _

_"You're pregnant?"_

_Movement. Sounds like a foot scuffing a floor. _

_"That's what I said, isn't it?" This is a familiar voice, now. Mommy. Warmth as she presses her dirty hands to her slightly swollen stomach. "Didn't you hear me?"_

_"Are you fucking kidding me?"_

_"No. Gad, Ma. You're so..."_

_"So_ what? _I'm so what? Answer me now, whore!"_

_"Don't fucking call me that!"_

_There is a loud slapping noise that jostles the world, throwing it into the Other. The other thing, sharing space. _

_"Get the fuck out of this house, slut! I never want to see you again!"_

_Stumbling. The hands fall away from the stomach, her steps surprised and weak. Then she gains confidence, turning and running away from the unfamiliar voice. _

_"You'll regret this, bitch!"_

I woke with a gasp and a shudder. My eyes flew open, panicking.

"Hey, Holly, are you okay?" Jordan said, coming over. He knelt in front of me, reaching for my face. I beat him to it, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

"Yeah," I murmured, standing unsteadily. I put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

**Kinda long, mostly filler – sorry about that. Action will pick back up in the next chapter. Sayonara, please review!**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: So, news. I was out and about the other night and I saw a copy of Angel in the bookstore. I picked it up and saw that it had a sneak preview of **_**Nevermore**_** in it, and since I don't want to wait until August I decided to read it. So I did. I had a heart attack in there. Seriously. It started out with Max and Dylan and went straight from there to Fang and Maya. There was no break in between or anything. It was terrible. Even though I like to joke about the Maya thing since my name is Maia, I secretly hate her guts. I'm going to walk to JP's house and saw his head off with a toothbrush if the whole book is that disgusting. If I'm lying may God strike me dead.**

**(Fang is a prick! I may have to switch to Iggy if he continues to act like this!)**

**Anyway. Disclaimer: Disclaimed.**

**Wait. I forgot something – CrystalSakura. I can't reply to your review where you asked me to reply to your review if you review anonymously. So can you legit log in so I can check you out? I want to read your story that you mentioned. Cool, thanks, let's go. **

**(CUE CARTEL) lol irresistible**

"WOOHOO!"

I rolled my eyes as Rex pumped his fist again out the window. "Watch the road, numbnuts," I told him, and he sheepishly rolled up his window and put his hand back on the wheel.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just so happy to be the heck out of there!" he exclaimed, looking at me through the rearview mirror. "You know?"

"It's not that big of a deal," I mumbled, even though I was secretly glad to be gone too.

We were driving. Just driving - southeast, in the general direction of Texas. Rex was behind the wheel. Who knew? I guess he had learned from Rocky while me and Jordan had been gone. With a little help from Rocky's credit card he had convinced a car dealership to rent a car to a guy without papers, and now we were speeding away - away from the hospital, away from the memories. Jordan was in the front seat; I was in the back with Nifty, holding Cory on my lap.

Jordan had a map in his lap; it was big and complicated-looking. I guess that one of the things you learn in school is how to read maps. Fortunately, the only one in the car who had ever actually been to school was holding the map. He shook it out.

"Does anyone care to tell me where we're going?" he asked.

"Can you just make sure we're staying east-southeast?" Rex asked.

"I can do that," I told him. He rolled his eyes in the rearview mirror at me.

"Why didn't we rent a convertible...?" Nifty wondered out loud. She shifted so that she was sideways in her seat and put her bare feet in my lap. Cory reached eagerly for her toes.

"Can you turn on the radio?" Rex asked of Jordan. "I don't know how to work that."

Jordan nodded and hit the button, tuning to a station - but he immediately turned it off after hearing about one second of the song that was playing. "Give it five minutes," he said exasperatedly. "They way overplay that song."

"What song?" I asked, feeling like I was missing something.

He turned around in his seat and rolled his eyes at me. "Guess."

"Oh." I felt kind of stupid. We sat in silence for a little bit. My back was aching, and I really needed to stretch. I winced and pressed the sore spot with my fingers. Cory flailed in my grasp, and I quickly settled back down.

"You okay?" Nifty asked me.

"Er...yeah." I gave a weak grin.

"Want me to take Cory?"

"Only if you want to." I crossed my legs in the seat, sitting Cory in the spot that my legs left. "I kind of like holding him, though."

Nifty nodded and leaned back. I let the boy curl up in my arms and curled up myself, letting my back sink into the leather seat. The car buzzed against my forehead. I was kind of worried about falling asleep with Rex behind the wheel, but I was really tired. _Jordan will keep him from killing us all,_ I thought. With that comforting thought, I drifted off.

I don't know how much longer it was later when I woke up. But the sun was on the other side of the sky and Cory was gone from my lap. The car was still. Someone called my name.

"Holly," Jordan said again. "Wake up."

"Mmmm. What?" I said blearily, stretching. I opened my eyes. The door across from me was open, and Jordan was looking in. We appeared to be at a gas station, and I could see Rex's blue hair outside as he filled up the pump.

"Nifty's inside getting some snacks. If you have to go to the bathroom, now's the time."

I stretched again. "Okay." I opened the door and climbed out. It was windy; the draft blew my shirt flat against my belly, defining the bump. I sighed. I had exactly two weeks left; and my gut clenched at the thought of what would happen at the end of those two weeks. I pushed the thought from my mind and walked into the gas station.

I spotted Nifty in one of the aisles, trying to balance a liter of Coke and a bag of Lay's. I took the soda from her and she gave me a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Holly." She closed the door to the freezer where she had drawn out the Coke. "Want anything?"

I started to shake my head, and then saw a stack of Pringles. "Ooh, yes." I reached out and snagged it. "Okay, that's good. Let's pay."

Nifty got a roll of Mentos for Rex at the counter, and we paid and then went back out to the car. Rex was just finishing up with the gas, and Jordan was bent double with his head in the car.

"We have brought food!" Nifty called, a smile on her freckled face. Her yellow eyes with the vertical slits had attracted some strange looks in the store, but she had her hat on, and her brown hair fluffed out from under the rim.

"Sweet," Rex cheered. He brushed his navy hair away from the scales on his cheekbones and gave a thumbs up. For the first time in a while I noticed how shiny the rest of his scales were; flashing in the sunlight when he moved his arms and legs.

"What're you doing, Jordan?" I asked.

"Nothing." He pulled his head out of the car. "Just, uh…rearranging some stuff." He reached up and brushed his bangs away in that particular way he had; with his whole hand instead of just his palm. Metal glinted from various places on his face, and his stormy gray/blue eyes glinted at me.

"Keep talking BS, and you'll have to wipe your tongue." I rolled my eyes. "Can we go?"

We all got in the car after Rex called "same seats" – not that it mattered to him, seeing as he was the only one who could drive. I wasn't tired anymore, and with Sirius XM playing in the background, I was excited for my first road trip to continue.

We drove for a while longer. While I was asleep, we had passed into Nevada, slicing off the very tip, and were now in Arizona. When Rex said he was feeling kind of tired, I immediately said that we should stop for the night. I wasn't risking _anything_. Cory was fussing as well, so we stopped at the first hotel we saw and rented a room with two queen beds. We could share. The lady handed over a key without looking twice at our misfit selves, and we made a break for our room and the shower.

Rex got there first, so he got in the shower right away with death threats if he wasn't done in fifteen minutes. Nifty took Cory and went down to the hotel gift shop to see if they had any baby clothes, leaving Jordan and I alone in the room.

"No funny business," she warned as she left, making me blush.

"Are you feeling okay?" Jordan asked as the door closed. I sighed and flopped onto the bed.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm tired and achy. But I've heard about other women, and it doesn't seem half as bad as it would normally be. So I guess I lucked out." I gave a weak smile to the ceiling. "But I guess since it's, like, sped up and stuff it's probably not as bad."

"I'd think it would be worse," he muttered.

"Yeah. So again, I'm lucky."

Jordan was silent.

"Jordan?"

He didn't respond. I looked over at him. He was looking at me with a weird expression in his eyes. Well, not really at me, but at my stomach.

"Jord –" I stopped in the middle of my sentence, my eyes bulging. I sat up quickly on the bed and pressed hard on the round surface of my stomach. In a flash, Jordan was kneeling in front of me, his hands flying about awkwardly.

"What is it? What happened? Is it the baby? Is it coming?" he fired off rapidly.

"No– the baby isn't coming. It just –" I stopped and tensed as I felt it again. "Feel," I commanded, moving my hand and straightening, pulling up the hem of my shirt. Jordan laid his hand against the skin, his hot flesh seeming to burn me.

"Oh, my God," he whispered as the baby gave a fluttering, feeble kick. He adjusted his hand, pressing from a different angle to try and get closer. "Oh, my God."

I smiled and put my hands over his. He looked up at me. "Holly?"

My brain was whirling. I was so caught up in the moment, with his palm burning a handprint into my skin. I knew I was about to do something that I'd regret later; but I didn't care. I was only thinking about right here and right now, and as I felt the fluttering of the baby –_our baby;_ because it was ours, no matter if we had wanted it or not, if it was organically conceived or not – under his fiery palm, I forgot all my reasons for not wanting Jordan and let my heart take over.

"I give up," I said, and smashed my lips to his.

He tensed, but then he responded with eagerness, quickly taking control of the kiss. When I felt his tongue at my lips I thought, _Why not._ I opened up like a good girl, and felt his hot tongue slip inside. He raised his hands to my head and pulled my face even closer, if that was even possible; I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled him against my swollen body. My wings flared behind me, restless with the emotion flowing inside myself, the tingling in my gut.

The click of the latch door had us both shooting apart. Panting, I tried to act natural, falling back on the bed as Nifty walked in the room, Cory balanced on her arm, juggling the key card and a fistful of blue fabric in her hand.

"I knocked, but no one answered," she said. "I can't believe you couldn't get off your lazy butts to help a cripple with the door." She set the baby down on the bed and then dumped the rest of the stuff unceremoniously next to him. "Well?"

That was when Rex walked out of the bathroom, his waist wrapped in a towel and his clothes slung over his shoulder. He tossed his clothes on the bed next to Nifty's stuff. Jordan watched him with interest – it was truly cool to see the four-armed boy without a cover. His stomach was lined with scales; abs shiny and glittering blue-green. They spread up and across his chest, almost making a T. Right under his top two arms protruded two more arms, which were twisting the cap off of a water bottle, which he tipped into his mouth.

Wiping his lip with the top left arm, he paused as he noticed us all watching him. "…What?" he asked. His other two arms were reassembling the bottle, and one hand held the towel firmly in place. "I'm not _that_ interesting…"

"Actually, you are," Nifty said.

Rex looked taken aback. "Oh. Uh…"

"I'm taking a shower now," I said. I jumped up and shut myself into the bathroom before anyone could protest. Leaning against the door, I exhaled hard.

It was going to be a long night.

**!**

The upside of staying at the hotel was that we now had a destination.

"It's the most highly anticipated game of the year," Rex read eagerly from the screen.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't bet on that. You're forgetting the Superbowl." Rex was so naive. A random football game wasn't the most highly anticipated game of the year.

"That's what Fang says," Rex said, pointing at the screen, which I hadn't properly looked at until now. I sucked in a breath.

"I'm sorry. That's what _who_ says?" I asked him sharply.

Rex and I had gone down to the lobby, where they had a computer bank. He wanted to have something to be looking forward to at the end of our road trip. I hadn't really watched him, just kept guard while he Googled randomly.

"The game's in a week. We could head down there and camp out like the major fans do," he said excitedly.

"Hang on." My voice was icy. "You never answered my question. That's what _who _says?"

"Fang. Why?"

"Do you know this guy?" I asked him.

He put up his hands. "Jeez, Holly – quit being such a mom. He's just some guy on the internet. It came up when I was Googling football games. He has a blog post about it."

"Let me see," I commanded, and he moved over. I ignored the queasy feeling in my gut – both at the mom comment and at Fang's name – and started reading.

..

**You are reading Fang's Blog. Welcome!**

**Date: **Too lazy to check the calendar. Why do I have this feature on here? I don't think I've ever put the actual date up.

**You are visitor number: **Error

**Attractions for the birdkid tourists! There's a first for everything…**

Hey guys, what's up. We're on the road right now. Max is behind the wheel, but don't bother to kill me now. We literally had to wrestle Iggy away from the driver's seat. Who knew blind people were allowed to drive? No one, that's who, because they're not.

Anyway, we're headed in the general direction of Texas; and the kids are wanting to do some sightseeing. If this actually comes up, I doubt I'll say anything about this post. You guys all know how much I like to keep secrets from Max. This is where I'm supposed to put a smiley face emoticon.

Wait a second. Why does it say 'error' up there on the counter? Is it broken? I hope not. I'll get Nudge to fix it later.

Anyway, looking around at attractions – there's the cowgirl museum (yep, no.), JFK memorial museum (…?), an art museum (way to bore a blind kid to tears), an aquarium (don't make me hungry…) and a football game? Hmm. Texas Cowboys vs. Chicago Bears. Tabloids say it's the most highly anticipated game of the year. (I think no.) But maybe still worth checking out. I think going to football games is some sort of manly right-of-passage. If so, we definitely should attend. It would be horrible if we died before becoming true men. But shh. If anyone tells Max, I'll…I'll go Fang on your behind.

-Fang

I finished the post and stood back up, sighing.

"Why?" Rex inquired.

"Just, uh…just wondering." I turned back around, keeping an eye out for Erasers.

"So can we go?" Rex begged.

"Sure. Whatever. I don't care."

Rex fell silent, dumping me into an awful mood. I didn't mean to snap at the boy, but I was still tired and more emotionally worn than I'd been in a while. I sat back with the knowledge that the next couple of days would be more hectic than ever.

**!**

"Whoa. There are a lot of people here."

"You reckon?" Nifty said to Rex's observational comment.

Rex shrugged. "Just saying."

"Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious," Nifty said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Rex said seriously.

"Anyone want a hot dog?" Jordan said, waving down a vendor.

"No thanks." I was too busy trying to get comfortable. The seats were small and I didn't have anywhere to put my hands. With a week left of this torment, my stomach was close to the size of a yoga ball. I'd heard people talking about the joys of being pregnant. So far I had had a total of zero joy. Well, except for when the baby had first kicked and Jordan and I…Ahem. But whatever. I felt like crap now and I was still uncomfortable.

I looked around the stadium. There were thousands of people here. How would I ever find Fang in this crowd? I still wanted to see him if I could. But there were so many _people._

We were sitting about twenty rows from the top, so fairly close to the edge of the stadium. I could see everything clearly except for the actual field, which looked basically like a fuzzy green blob with little ants moving around on it. But I wasn't here for the game. I was here for my brother.

"You okay?"

Jordan had directed his attention to me, shifting in my seat. "Uh…yeah," I said, arching my back. The metal pressed hard in my spine no matter which way I turned.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just a little uncomfortable. These seats are – hey!"

Jordan's arms wrapped around my waist under my swollen belly, lugging me onto his lap. "What are you doing?" I hissed, struggling in his arms.

"Making the pregnant woman more comfortable," he murmured in my ear. "Relax. You'll find that I'm a lot more comfortable than that seat."

"But we paid –"

"It's okay. Not your money. Don't worry about it," he told me.

I stopped struggling and did as he said, leaning back against his warm chest. He folded his hands against my tummy, and I put my hands on top of his, trying to keep looking for Fang with valiant but futile efforts.

"Barf," said Nifty from next to me.

I rolled my head around to look at her. She was looking at me with faux revulsion on her face, her yellow eyes sparkling with laughter. "You two are soooo…" She thought.

"So what?" I demanded.

"Cliché," she decided.

Jordan shifted under me, glaring at the cat girl. "Hey, now."

She shrugged, bouncing Cory on her knee, her hand wrapped around his torso. "Haters gonna hate," she said.

"Waiters gonna wait," Jordan countered.

"Potatoes gonna potate."

"Alligators gonna alligate."

"You two make no sense," I said, chuckling.

"Potatoes gonna potato?" Rex asked cluelessly, and we all rolled our eyes.

"What?" he demanded.

Suddenly, a shock swept the stadium. Murmurs rippled through the crowds. I knit my eyebrows and sat up, searching the stands for the disturbance. "What's going on?"

Silently, Jordan pointed at the large screen mounted on the edge of the stands. Instead of the cheer routines that had been being broadcasted, there were now live feeds of some familiar faces. Six different faces. Wings spread; figures leaping into flight.

_The flock._

I aimed my eyes around the stadium until I saw the movement. The six of them were down towards the bottom, at the fifty-yard line. One by one they took flight; soaring upwards and away from the stands. I saw him right away: the shadow of the leader. All in black, what a surprise. On the camera, I could see his face, up close and personal. His brows were drawn in concentration, but to my surprise, he looked smug. Almost like he'd been hoping this would happen. Like he'd known somehow.

I frowned. What was Fang thinking? Max looked angry, the others disappointed.

They flew up and away from the stadium, quickly disappearing from even _my_ sight.

"How rude," Rex said as we all sat back down. I leaned back against Jordan again, settling down. He was right about one thing – he was a lot more comfortable than that seat.

"What?" I asked, only half actually caring.

"They left before the game even started." Rex looked personally offended. "And Fang was the one who said that it was the most highly anticipated game of the year!"

**You have no idea how long this took me to write. It's not even that long. It's just…ARGH. I think I had better get some sleep. R&R?**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: Hey, guys. Guess what. You have no idea how close we are to the end, so let me enlighten you. We have this chapter. Then one more after that. Maybe an epilogue if I feel like it. The end. I am not joking. Isn't that awesome! Ahaha, even though I got two reviews on the last chap, and they were from Ellie and Olivia. Oh well. Soo close to the end...haaaaaa. **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. I do not own.**

**Iggy V: Boring…**

"I am so done," I say to no one in particular.

"You want to go back?"Jordan asks me, sounding worried.

"Nah, it's okay." I actually kind of do, but whatever. I'm enjoying my walk in the woods with my three buds. Four if you count Cory. And it's actually more of a waddle than a walk at this point, to tell you the truth. I've reached the point where normal people would be on bedrest, but screw that. I'm an Avian American. I can do what I want.

If I remember culture correctly, then it means Christmas is in two days. Today's the 23rd. If I could wish for anything right now, it would be to have this uncomfortable child gone from my body. It would also be nice if Santa was real. The kid was only gonna go the hard way.

The hard way – which was any day now.

"You sure?" Rex asks me.

"Positive." I wished they would stop worrying over me. I was healthy. I was fine. I curled my arms under my stomach to try and support it. "God, this thing is heavy."

We got to a clearing. Nifty plopped down on the grass, crossing her legs and leaning her head on her shoulders. "Can we stop here?" she asked. "We've been walking for a while." She rubbed Cory's head. The boy was strapped to her tummy, sleeping.

Jordan helps me sit down, and I exhale gratefully and lean against a tree. We had parked the car at a national reserve somewhere, but wandered off of the path just for kicks. Deep in the woods, far from civilization. We weren't lost, though. I knew exactly how to get back.

"Oh, my God – remember that time that we told Rex that a tree was a thing that grew from the sky and had pink leaves and if you got too near to one it would swallow you whole, and he believed it?" Nifty burst out suddenly, and laughed.

Rex frowned. "I was like six."

I winced when a dull pain gripped my stomach, but relaxed when it passed. I instantly let it slide from my mind.

"Oh yeah - and there was that one time that they pumped Holly full of hormones and she almost tackled me," Rex remembered fondly.

I sent him a death glare. "You, boy, if you know what's good for you, will shut up."

Jordan laughed. He leaned closer to me and twined his fingers with mine in the grass behind my back, where the other two couldn't see.

"Remember when we told Nifty that as she got older, each of her freckles would grow until she turned into a giant freckle?" Rex said.

Nifty frowned. "Yeah, but I also remember the time that we told Rex that all his scales were a certain sign that he was part mermaid," she countered.

"Okay, I give up." Rex flopped back onto the grass, his arms spreading around him. "You guys have too many embarrassing stories about me."

"That's because you were an embarrassing little kid," I said, laughing. My laughter was cut off by another cramp gripping me.

"You okay?" Rex asked, sitting up and looking at me in concern.

I nodded as it passed. "Fine."

But the mood was killed. We sat in silence.

"What are we doing?" Nifty finally spoke up.

No one had an answer. Rex appeared to have fallen asleep in the sun – _truly a lizard boy;_ and he looked so content that we all just watched him for a couple minutes.

It hit me so hard that I doubled over, clutching my stomach.

"Owww…" I squeezed out.

"Holly! You okay?" Jordan said. Nifty scrambled to her feet and ran to my side, plopping down on the grass. Cory was jostled, but he didn't wake up.

"Yes," I said. "I'm fine. This is normal; it means the baby will come sometime today or tomorrow…" I stopped when a thought attacked my brain. _I don't think it's usually this close together so soon…does this mean that the Eraser stuff is making this part go faster too? Please God, no._

Rex woke up and saw us all in a cluster. The blood drained from his face.

"What's going on?" he said.

"Nothing..." I started, and then bent over as another one hit. I winced and curled my hands into fists, holding back a groan. I bit my lip, tasting blood.

"Doesn't look like nothing," Rex said.

"Well, it is." I stopped when I felt something weird. Something…wet. At first, I was embarrassed, but then I realized – _maybe it's not nothing._

"Shit," I croaked.

"What?" Nifty said, and then her eyes dropped. She saw it. "Oh, no," she breathed.

"What? What?" Rex asked. I looked at Jordan, who swallowed.

"Her water just broke," he said hoarsely.

That's when it happened. I guess they'd been following us for a while, God knows how long. But they suddenly sprung out from behind the trees and surrounded us – maybe five of them. All I could see was a blur of white at first.

_White?_

Oh, dear God, no.

_The whitecoats were here._

JPOV

They sprang on us like animals; armed with their shiny tools, their eyes so devoid of emotion it made me shiver. I already felt like I was going to throw up, and I almost did when I saw them. I wasn't awake for long enough to, though. The needle hit my arm and I was out cold.

**!**

Hannibal wasn't doing so well. Atalanta knew he didn't have much time left. All the boy did was lie listlessly in the corner of his crate, drifting in and out of sleeping fits. Atalanta wanted to cry whenever she saw him just lying there, but she bit back her tears.

_Strong,_ she thought to herself. _I need to be strong for him._

_Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,  
Go to sleep my little baby.  
When you wake, you'll have cake,  
And all the pretty little horses._

So instead of crying for the boy, she sang for him. She sang all day, all night, past when the whitecoats would go home to bed, would go home to their families and lives, and left the experiments here at the lab, the healthy and the dying, the strong and the broken. All of them were broken.

_Blacks and bays, dapples and grays,  
A coach, and six little horses.  
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,  
Go to sleep my little baby._

When the whitecoats would come during the day, they tried to stop her from singing to the boy. They would gag her – so she hummed. They took her away. She sang loudly so that she hypnotized the entire warehouse, instead of just the boy. So they put her back, and told her to sing quietly.

Hannibal stirred to her voice. She reached through the bars and stroked his leg, singing through her suddenly thick voice. He opened his eyes at the change and looked puzzled at her tears.

"I love you, Hannibal," she said.

He closed his eyes and died.

_Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,  
Go to sleep my little baby.  
When you wake, you'll have cake,  
And all the pretty little horses._  
**!**

JPOV

I woke up in a very uncomfortable position. I looked down and saw that I was tied to a tree.

_What?_

It all came back when a bloodcurdling scream hit my ears. My head snapped up so fast that I cracked it on the trunk of the tree. We were tied down at the edge of the clearing – on one side I could feel Nifty, and on the other Rex. Both were still out cold.

On the other side of the clearing, all five of the whitecoats were crouched down around something. I knew what it was – _Holly_. I could see her head and feet, but the whitecoats blocked everything else. I was glad. One hand crept out from between them – her hand was white, gripping the grass. Ripped up bits of green surrounded the place where her hand was.

She screamed again. I had never felt so helpless in my life. I strained against the bonds, desperate to break free and do – what? What was I going to do once I got over there? Help her somehow? In any other situation, I would have laughed. I would probably get over there and then just throw up all over her. But I wanted to give her a hand to hold. I wanted to take some of the pain away.

Next to me, Nifty stirred. She opened her eyes.

"Oh, my God," she croaked, her eyes immediately focusing on the scene. She shuddered and tears began to fall from her eyes, streaking down her face. "Oh, my God."

Cory, still bound to her chest, shifted restlessly. I would have gripped her hand, except I was on the side with no hand. My vision was getting blurry as well, I'll admit. I sat back helplessly and blinked hard.

"We have to –" I struggled. "We have to get out of this rope," I said. I pushed against the thick rope, but I couldn't budge it. "Nifty, help me. We've got to – Holly!" I shouted. "I'm right here! I'm coming!" My voice cracked, and I struggled to find purchase on the ground with my shoes.

"Jordan."

Nifty's voice sounded broken. I stopped and looked at her.

"There's nothing we can do," she said. "Give up. It won't help her."

"What – what are you talking about?" I said uncertainly. "We have to help her!"

"Give up," she said again. She closed her eyes. Her face was wet. "We can't help her. As much as I hate to admit it, the whitecoats over there are doing more for her that we can."

"What are you talking about?" I shouted. "NO! I'm not giving up!"

Holly screamed again. Her voice broke. I heard her dissolve into tears. My determination was renewed. "We have to get to her," I said. "We have to be there for her."

"Jordan." Nifty's voice was firm. "If you go over there you will be in the way. If you love the girl on the grass over there, then _you will stay put."_

I stopped moving and slumped back in place. Nifty was right. All I could do right now was sit and watch.

The tears broke over my eyes and spilled down my face.

**!**

"It's dead."

Atalanta had been curled up in the corner for a few hours now. Since Hannibal had died, the warehouse had been eerily quiet. She now raised her head at the voice.

Eyes red, face wet, she stared in shock at the whitecoats that were standing in front of Hannibal's crate.

"Shall we dispose of it?"

_It?_

_IT?_

"Open my door," Atalanta sang. The whitecoats turned robotically toward her.

"_Open my door,"_ she sang again, urging them on. Her voice betrayed none of her anger, but inside she was steaming. How dare they? How dare they address Hannibal as if he was an object?

"We…shouldn't…" one whispered. He was trying to resist her.

He would fail.

"_OPEN MY DOOR!"_ Atalanta sang, putting as much emotion and hate into the simple melody as was humanly possible. The whitecoat's hand shot out like he was a puppet on a string and unlatched the crate door.

"Leave, please," Atalanta sang to him, and the two whitecoats turned and walked stiffly away. She pushed open the door and climbed out. She then clambered to the top of her crate, standing tall as the warehouse doors swung shut and the mutants were alone with her, and no whitecoats.

"Children!" she shouted. All the eyes turned to her, and she started to feel a little unsure. Having hundreds of eyes on her was a little unsettling. But she saw Hannibal, and his still body filled her with confidence.

"Boys! Girls!" she shouted, not needing to sing. "Human beings! Listen to me. If you're tired of being treated like objects, say I!"

No one spoke. She got a queasy feeling in her gut.

"Say I!" she said again.

"I!" said one boy with shark teeth.

"If you're starting to forget your actual name, say I!"

"I!" shouted a little girl with bunny ears and a puffball tail.

"If you're tired of not knowing when your next meal will be, say I!"

"I!" shouted a boy with a lion's mane. He clutched the bars of his crate. "I am!"

"What's your name?" she shouted at him, pointing. He looked surprised, but then he swallowed. "Rudy," he said.

"Rudy's tired of it!" she yelled. "Who else is tired of it? Shout, guys! Let me hear you. _SAY I!"_

The roar was deafening. She smiled. Every eye was locked on the little Asian girl on the crate, her throat scarred and white, her hair ragged and filthy, her eyes sparkling with hope.

"Children!" she shouted. "We all knew Hannibal! Every one of us knew him. He did not deserve to be here! But I'm telling you. Hannibal will be the last one to die in this lab! We will be free! _If you're with me, SAY I! ! !"_

**!**

It was finally over.

We'd been tied there for an hour. Suddenly, and without warning, the whitecoats had stood. One of them was holding something. They turned and disappeared into the trees, leaving Holly lying in the grass – her clothes back on, spattered with blood.

"Rex." Nifty whispered his name. "Wake up. We need you to help us get out."

Rex stirred. He opened his eyes, his vision landing on Holly. He swallowed. "Is it over?"

"Yes," said Nifty. "Come on – the knot's closest to you. Untie it."

I was silent. My eyes were dry and fresh, but I felt limp and lifeless. I was going to have nightmares about that for the rest of my life. Maybe longer.

The second the bonds loosened, I was up and gone. In two seconds I was at her side. Her eyes were sparkling with tears, and she looked limp. The grass was stained with her blood.

I grabbed her hand. _"I'm sorry," _I whispered.

She looked at me. "It's okay," she said. Her voice rasped in her throat. She squeezed my hand. "It's over now."

Nifty and Rex got there, kneeling by her side. Nifty was crying openly. She was holding Holly's hand tightly, like she thought she'd never hold it again, crying into it like a lifesaver.

"Nifty," Holly rasped. "It's okay. I'm okay. We're together."

Nifty just sobbed.

Rex was looking around. "Where's the baby?" he said. "Is it a boy or a girl? Does it have wings?"

Holly looked grim, and I waited anxiously. That's when it hit me – _I'm a father to someone out there. I have a son or a daughter somewhere._ It was a weird thought, and sent my heart careening away through my chest. I hung onto her every movement.

"I don't know," she said. "They took it."

My breath stilled. "What?" I whispered.

"The whitecoats," she said. "They took the baby. I don't know anything about them. I didn't even…get to hold them."

She started crying then, shaking and sobbing. I took her into my arms and held her tightly, wishing I could take some of her pain away. Wishing I could do anything to help this broken girl.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: I've noticed that as I get more and more excited about finishing stories, my chapters get progressively shorter and shorter. What do you think?**

**Iggy V: I think there's a moral to this story. **

**Me: -sighs- And the morale of this story is...?**

**Iggy V: NEVER TRUST THE SYSTEM!**

**Me: -bursts out laughing-**

**Nifty: She forgot to say this last chapter, but I'm gonna say it before she can forget again. Good news! There IS a sequel on the way! It's called **_**Forgiven**_**, and is a cross-sequel with **_**Please Forgive Me. **_

**Me: You forgot to say that it won't be out until everything else is finished. And when I say everything, I really mean **_**everything.**_

**Nifty: -ignores last comment- So you're gonna want to read **_**Please Forgive Me**_** if you want to 100% get it. And guess what! I'm in it! My screen time isn't over! Yaaaaay!**

I'd be unstoppable if I could walk.

Unfortunately I couldn't. This is where I'd insert an unhappy smiley face emoticon if this wasn't real life. Instead I was riding Jordan piggyback. Having my legs pulled apart hurt a little, but hey, I wasn't going to complain about something like that after..._that_.

I was tired enough as it was, but determined. No kid deserved to be through what Rex, Nifty and I had been through. And you know, I didn't know what I was going to do with the kid once we got him - her, er, them back (still not sure of the gender...) but that didn't matter. Getting a baby out of a hellhole was enough to worry about without concerning yourself with what came next.

Jordan was fast. Despite the fact that I was using him like a pony, he still easily kept pace with the genetically altered Nifty and Rex. I directed the three of them back to the path with my 'internal compass' and they raced back to the car from there. Rex scrambled into the front with Nifty, while Jordan settled into the back with me.

We were in California right now, having driven back a little bit before we stopped here at the reserve. The School was another three hours away. I didn't know if we would be able to get there on time. Hell, I didn't even know what we'd do once we got there. I didn't think we could really make a plan. The only ones of us that had even been in the School were Nifty and Rex, and they'd lasted about three minutes until something happened. It was a deadly place, and that was all we knew about it. The four of us in this speeding car - well, five if you counted Cory - had no idea what was waiting for us there. We were heading into a war zone blindfolded.

My mind wandered to Nifty. She had unstrapped Cory from her belly and was bouncing him in her knee. The boy's violet eyes were crinkled in amusement, and his little fingers were fisted around her thumb. My heart hurt watching that boy. Where were his parents? Had he been taken at birth, just like my child had? How had his mother reacted? Did she even want a completely mute baby?

"What are you thinking about?" Jordan's quiet voice broke into my thoughts. I looked up, startled.

"Nothing." I looked at my lap, twisting my hands. Feeling his fingers at my ear, I looked up to see his eyes sad as he smoothed my hair away from my forehead.

"You okay?" he asked me, his eyes roaming my face, his hand lingering on my head.

"Mostly," I confessed, looking down at my lap again. I swallowed bard and felt his fingers underneath my chin. Lifting my gaze as he lifted my head, I suddenly felt like my eyes were swimming.

"No, you're not," he said gently.

"Sorry," I whispered.

A tear broke free from my eye and spilled down my face. He wiped it away with his thumb and caressed my cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said. "If I wasn't here, this would never have happened to you."

"No," I said, holding his hand still on my face. "If you weren't here, they would have used someone else. A stranger." I grinned a little against his palm. "So I'm glad you were here."

"Why?" he asked, honestly confused.

"I wouldn't want it with anyone else," I admitted quietly, not looking at him.

He didn't respond. Slightly worried, I looked up at him, to see him looking so overjoyed that he was actually glowing.

"Really?"

I nodded, not daring to speak. He looked so happy, there was only one thing I could really do to complete the moment. I closed the space between us and kissed him.

It was the first time I'd ever initiated a kiss between us before, and I could tell he was surprised. It didn't take him long to get over it, though. He quickly put his other hand to my head, twining his fingers in my hair. Emotion began to bubble in my gut. My hands felt for his face; sliding from his cheeks down his chin and pulling at his neck. He responded with a low moan and I immediately felt his tongue at my lips. Opening up, he slipped inside and explored my mouth. I angled our heads to try and get closer.

Nifty's shriek had us flying apart. The car lurched and then seemed to restart and Rex jumped and fought to regain control, and I could see him struggling not to pull over onto the strip on the side of the highway. Instead we sped on as Rex clutched his chest with a spare arm.

"_What?"_ he said angrily. "You scared the pee out of me, Nifty!"

"HOLLY!" Nifty yelled. She twisted around and glared at me. "No _kissing_, for Christ's sake! I hope I never see that again!"

"See what?" Rex asked, as I turned tomato red.

"Holly and Jordan making out!" Nifty said, looking exasperated. I glanced at Jordan, who was a strange shade of magenta.

"She started it that time," he croaked, pointing at me.

I pushed his hand away. "Next time you point a finger, I'll have to bend it back or break it off," I said.

Jordan snatched his hand back. "Hey, now."

"Don't ignore me!" Nifty screeched. "NO kissing!"

"Sorry, Mom," I said, rolling my eyes.

The rest of the way to the School passed without event. The closer we got to it, the harder my heart began to race. When we arrived in the town, I was sweating.

We pulled into the same parking lot that I had found them in all those weeks ago. Rex slowly parked the car and we all got out, looking up at the forest ahead of us, over which the top of the School was slightly visible. I felt like my feet were rooted to the ground; procrastinating going in there, where I'd heard so many stories. I was about to wimp out and just never go in, but then I realized I'd end up doing it anyway.

And you know what they say: Procrastination is like masturbation. It seems fun at the time until later when you realize that all you've done is screwed yourself.

"Shall we go?" Rex said nervously.

I nodded, and we plunged into the forest.

* * *

We hiked through a bunch of leaves and plants and stuff for what seemed like hours but was probably only about ten minutes. Luckily for me, I had those high-speed regeneration powers you hear about in stuff like Pokémon and Bleach, and was able to walk easily now. Mutants: 1 Whitecoats: 1

Speaking of powers…

I smiled. I just figured out how we were getting out of here.

"What's so funny, Holly?" Nifty asked me. Her arm was wrapped tightly around Cory, as if she was already trying to protect him. The boy squirmed a little in her vice-like grip, but she didn't relinquish it. Rex was walking just in front of her, holding the branches away from her, since she didn't have any spare arms to do it with.

"Nothing." I grinned even bigger. I hadn't told any of them about my power, so she had no idea of what I was so excited about.

She shrugged. "Fine," she said snootily, turning her nose up. I laughed when a branch whapped her in the face, and she let go of the boy in the Baby Bjorn to massage her nose.

"Thanks, Rex," she said sarcastically.

"Want me to take Cory?" Rex offered, and Nifty nodded gratefully, slipping out of the carrier and passing it to Rex, who buckled it at twice the speed of someone with a normal amount of arms.

We walked for another minute before Rex stopped and kneeled down in the grass.

"We're here," he said. I looked down and saw a hole in the fence, looking like it had been ripped open. Rex grinned apologetically.

"What can I say? Escape route," he said, like the smartass he is. I rolled my eyes as he flopped down on his belly and shimmied through the hole, standing on the other side and dusting himself off.

I stood aside and held out my hand for Jordan. "After you."

He smiled and got down on his hands and knees. He was a bit bulkier than Rex, so he had to really squeeze through, but soon he was standing on the other side.

"Nifty?" I said, but she wasn't where I was expecting her to be. "Uhh…" I turned in a circle, confused. Where was she?

"Up here!" came her voice brightly. I looked up and saw her perched on top of the fence. My eyebrows shot up.

"Whoa. How'd you get up there?" I said.

"I jumped." She said it so matter-of-factly that I just shrugged and didn't question it, just like you wouldn't question it if someone said they were going home to watch Vampire Diaries.

Actually, that was a horrible analogy, so just forget about it.

I looked at the hole. I didn't particularly want to go through it. But, fortunately for me, being a mutant does have its upsides. I spread my wings and flapped quickly over the fence, landing neatly on the other side at the same time as Nifty leaped agilely to the ground, her tail waving behind her.

"Let's go," she said, so we went.

The door was open when we tried it. I was a little surprised, but it didn't stop us. We wrenched it open and stormed inside, ready to extract our revenge.

* * *

APOV

It was amazing what a group of kids could do when motivated.

Seriously. The only way you could've gotten them to move faster is if you'd dangled free bacon in front of their faces.

Rudy was one of the first ones out. The two of them moved quickly, freeing the children left and right. Each kid that went free was another pair of hands moving to get everyone out, until every door was hanging open, swinging a little in the weight of what they were doing.

"Alright, everyone!" Atalanta shouted. The excited murmuring from the children died down quickly. She scrambled on top of a cage. What? She was short.

"You guys ready?" she yelled, and was blown away by the roar that followed. When it had died down, she raised her fist in the air and opened her mouth.

Instead of cheering them on, she began to sing.

_Oh freedom,__  
__oh freedom,__  
__oh freedom,__  
__freedom is coming,__  
__oh yes oh freedom,__  
__Oh freedom,__  
__oh __freedom__,__  
__freedom is coming,__  
__oh yes oh_

She climbed down from the cage, still singing. Excited, the children followed after her, streaming out of the big room with the cages. Atalanta gathered up the body of Hannibal in her arms and pressed him to her chest, still singing.

_Yes I know,__  
__oh yes I know,__  
__oh yes I know,__  
__oh yes I know,__  
__oh yes I_

The doors flew open and the children streamed out en masse. Every child took up her song with her, singing their little hearts out, singing for everything they'd missed while stuck in the cages.

Rudy came up behind Atalanta and put his hand on her shoulder. Another mutant named Sketch held her arm, his smile big on his face.

"You saved us all, Atalanta," he said.

_Yes I know,__  
__oh yes I know,__  
__oh yes I know,__  
__oh yes I know,__  
__oh yes I know._

Whitecoats in the hall were frozen with the sound of the children, Atalanta's voice ringing loud and clear as a bell above the noise behind her. The song swelled like the tide, every child joining the symphony.

It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever heard.

_Oh freedom,__  
__oh freedom,__  
__oh freedom,__  
__freedom is coming,__  
__oh yes oh freedom,__  
__Oh freedom,__  
__oh __freedom__,__  
__freedom is coming  
oh yes I know_

Atalanta stopped.

In front of them stood a man with ginger hair and a long white coat. He was holding a bundle in one arm. The other arm he opened in a wide embrace toward the children, the freckles on his face seeming to beam.

"Now just where do you think you are going?" he asked, in a friendly voice. Atalanta peered at his nametag.

All it said was ROCKY.

* * *

HPOV

It was strangely quiet in the School. Somehow I was expecting a bit more noise. We walked anxiously through the halls, shoes tapping harshly on the floor.

Nifty suddenly froze. "Hear that?" she muttered, cocking her head.

I stopped, because Nifty had the best ears and so probably would hear anything coming far before the rest of us. We all stood stock-still, cocking our heads until I heard it.

It sounded like a roar at first, distant but loud. Then I was able to make out what sounded like a tune, a hymnal almost.

"What's going on?" Rex asked, looking worried.

"I don't know, but we better find out."

We broke into a run, sprinting down the hall and up stairs, not caring to be careful about it. If any whitecoats were here now, it would be a relief. At least we would know where we stood.

Bursting through the door, I stopped in my tracks. Jordan nearly bowled me over, but I was just standing in shock as the sound hit me.

"What…?" Nifty breathed.

In front of us, the hall was blocked – blocked by masses of children. And when I say masses, I mean _masses._ It looked like every child in the entire facility had broken free and was now standing, singing their lungs out. In the very front of the crowd was a small girl –maybe nine or ten, Asian, with a throat marred with white scars. She was the only one that I could see who wasn't singing. In her arms was a limp body of what looked like an elephant hybrid gone wrong.

In front of the crowd stood a whitecoat – the only one we'd seen so far. He looked oddly familiar.

He turned around, and his smiling face made my large intestines drop into my stomach with a splash and my heart leap into my throat.

"R-"

"_Rocky?"_

Nifty's guttural croak from behind me brought me back to my senses. I startled as Nifty stared in shock at her brother, standing amusedly before us.

"Hello, Cheyenne." His voice was pleasant. "I didn't know it was 'bring your sister to work' day. I must have missed the memo somehow. Care to fill me in?"

"What are _you _doing here?" Nifty asked, sounding more surprised than anything.

"Well, I could ask you the same question," Rocky chuckled. "After all, this is my work, not yours. This is just where you belong, sis. In a lab, just like the freak you are."

"Why, you – How dare you! How dare you talk to your sister like that! Be glad you have one! At least she's not – she's not _dead!"_ Jordan yelled. Suddenly he pushed past me, sprinting towards the smiling man before him. He drew back his fist for a solid punch, but Rocky ducked easily.

It was then that I noticed the bundle in his arms, and my large intestine fell into my stomach again.

"Be careful!" Rocky said. "You wouldn't want to accidentally hit your son, would you?"

Jordan came to a screeching halt.

"His…his _what?"_ Rex asked. His voice beat away in my ears, echoing dully. Sweat oozed from my every pore.

The mutants' song had died down. Now they were muttering confusedly to themselves, looking anxiously from one to the other.

"What do you mean, she's not dead?" Nifty asked.

Jordan shook his head. "My sister. Becca. She died in Iraq when I was nine. She fought and died for our country, which is more than I can say for any of you." He looked angry. "I don't know how the hell you all can even look at yourselves in the mirror. You're disgusting!"

"I'd be careful about what I'd say if I was you," Rocky said pleasantly, and Jordan's face passed to horror as he realized he's allowed himself to be distracted. "After all, I have your newborn son. And I can do whatever I feel like to him."

_I have a son?_

_I have a son._

_I have a son!_

_I HAVE A SON!_

"Give him to me," I said, my voice like black ice.

Rocky turned to me pleasantly. "And why should I?"

"Because," I said. "If you don't, I'll kill you." My voice was deadpanned; free of emotion. Rocky laughed in my face.

"I'd like to see you try."

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

Feeling ridiculously like Darth Vader, I raised my hand, palm out, and aimed it towards his throat. He looked confused. I felt out, out, out with my mind, until I could _feel_ his neck under my hand, his skin beneath my fingers.

Then I squeezed.

Shock passed over his face, and then understanding. His free hand went to his throat, clawing at the surface. I squeezed tighter and tighter until his face turned blue and he thudded onto the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head as he passed out.

It was the sound of the baby crying that seemed to wake everyone up. I startled as one of the mutants scooped him up and everyone made a massive break for it. I grabbed Rex (who had grabbed Jordan) and Nifty's hands and turned tail, dashing for the stairs.

We made it outside, and the mutants began to take off, leaving in droves over the fence, through the hole, across the grounds. Night had started to fall, and the sky was dark and velvety. Trees rustled in the wind, and I peered around for the mutant that had been holding my baby. A tap on my shoulder reminded me of where I was, and I turned.

It was that girl. The Asian one. Her eyes were sparkling as she held out something in her arms. I looked at it and saw that it was the bundle.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"You're welcome. And thank you," she said. "I'm Atalanta."

Nifty and Rex drew back respectfully as I took the baby from the girl's arms. She turned to talk to them and Jordan stood by my side as I held my baby for the first time.

I peeled back his blankets. His face was a little bit pink, with a soft nose and downy, fluffy hair – light brown, almost invisible against his scalp. His eyes were closed, and lashes lay flush against his skin. Through the blanket, I could feel wings.

"He's precious," Jordan whispered.

"He's ours," I said, kissing him lightly. The baby boy slept on as Nifty and Rex and Cory joined us, and we turned out into the night.

**Who caught the Paramore line? :D And The Lonely Island in the beginning, as well as multiple references to _Diary Of A Lovesick Mutant,_ which if you haven't read than I don't know what you've been doing this whole time. Call yourself a Maximum Ride fan, why don't you, and go read it.**

**The epilogue shall be out soon. Love you all/ rnr?**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: Wow, I can't believe I'm writing this, but…this is the last chapter, guys. Wait for it…wait for it…okay, -bawls- Yeah, I'm sad. I'll wait for thank you's til the end.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. **

"Jeez, why does his job have to be so loud?" I grumbled to myself.

I tried to make my way through the fans in the darkly lit venue. Unfortunately, the people were so tightly packed that it was making it impossible.

"Argh! Who knew he had so many fans?" I said, frustrated.

My mind wandered back to the thing that had happened a couple days ago. We'd left Rocky passed out – not dead – and had gone back outside and slowly out to the car. The whole time I hadn't been able to take my eyes off my baby boy.

I slid slowly into the backseat, not looking up.

"So…telekinesis?" Rex said, twisting around in his seat.

"Uh huh." My voice was distant. "As of a couple weeks ago. I've been practicing…" My voice trailed off. Rex huffed, and I could almost hear him rolling his eyes – all four.

"Well, how about you, Jordan?" he asked. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"About what?" Jordan said, buckling me in, since I wasn't doing it for myself.

"A sister?" Rex said. "Uhm…I mean, I think you mentioned one…"

Jordan's hands stilled for a moment, and then he finished pushing the clicker in. "Yeah. Becca. She was…she was twelve years older than me. She died in Iraq when I was eight, in her second year of service."

There was silence in the car. Rex slowly pulled out and started driving at about two miles an hour.

"Oh, yeah? What was she like?"

"She was…amazing."

_**!**_

_Hands encircled his stomach, lifting him high into the air. Even though he's six already, she is eighteen, and she could still easily lift him._

"_Put me down!" he hollers, kicking his legs. _

_She smiles, her eyes moist. "Why should I? I like to pick you up. At least until you get too big…"_

"_I'm already too big!" he insists, squirming._

"_In your dreams, shrimp." Contradicting herself, she sets him down on the ground, but doesn't take her hands off of his body. "Write me a song while I'm gone, bro."_

"_Songs are for girls," he scoffs. "Why would I ever sing one?"_

"_Aw, Jordan. I know you do it, I'm not stupid." She pulls her hands away from his ribcage, and he crosses his arms defiantly. She turns away from him and picks up her bags. "I have to go now," she says._

"_Wait – Becca! Wait! Hang on, don't leave me…" His voice suddenly cracks as he realizes what's happening. "Don't go!"_

"_I got to, Jordy." Suddenly she drops her bags and sweeps him into another hug – a big one. "Don't you change, Jordan," she whispers. "You better be the same when I get back, you hear?"_

_Then she's gone._

Jordan makes a quick swiping motion at his eyes. "They never found her body," she said. "Only DNA in the area, as well as her dog tags. She died.. That's one reason I became a singer – that's what she wanted. And that's why I was so angry with Rocky for wasting his sister…he has a family, someone who loves him, and he's just throwing it away…"

Now as I tried to navigate through his fans…I wasn't so sympathetic for him. _Gah, why does he have to be so famous…?_ I glanced down at my chest, where Corbin was asleep in the baby carrier. _How he can sleep through this noise…_I smiled and cupped his tiny, soft head.

My smile faded as I looked back up at the distant stage. God, it seemed so far away… I wouldn't get there until the concert was over at this rate. Damn it.

I pushed through the girls until I got to the wall, turning my body in towards the wall to protect my day-old baby. Edging along, I finally made it up to the front and went into the door marked "DRESSING ROOM." What they needed a dressing room for when they were just doing concerts, I didn't know. Mysteries of fame, I guessed.

"Hey, Holly!" One of the guys – they'd gotten to know me pretty well after the last couple days – called out to me. "Can you help Jace with the merch? Fangirls and the like, you know how intense they can get."

"On it," I called, and slipped through the back door to help Jace. He had long blond hair, those disgusting gage things in his ears, and a black beanie that he never took off. On top of that, he was so small that you could easily put him in a box and mail him off to Argentina for a very low shipping fee.

"Hey, Holly," he said as I sat down with him, watching him count the money we'd made so far. "How's Cor?" He picked up a can of Pepsi and took a sip, then offered it to me. I took some and chugged it.

"Asleep," I said, wiping my mouth and checking again. "He must have been really tired to sleep through all this."

"Rex was playing pretty hard earlier," Jace said, and then made a quick sale and sat back down. "This just feels so…surreal, you know?"

"Tell me about it."

Eventually the concert ended. Even though Jace would now be super busy, I knew that this was when the meet and greet stuff went down, and I couldn't have no girls going too crazy over my baby daddy. I squeezed out of the suddenly crowded booth and slipped back to the dressing room.

There were probably about eight or nine girls in there, a small number compared to how many there usually were. I hung back with a smile, letting him meet the girls – or the girls meet him – without getting in the way. Nifty and Rex had gone off somewhere, I didn't know where.

Corbin woke up. Instead of crying, he just opened his eyes – which were bluer than the sky – and observed around him, moving in slow, jerky movements.

Jordan looked over and caught my eye. He slid away from the girls, who looked disgruntled when he smiled down at Corbin and fluffed his soft hair.

"How's he holding up?" he asked me.

"Good, seeing as how it's so loud up in here." I smiled. "He was actually sleeping until about two minutes ago. We should talk about this later, though – those girls paid good money for this chance to meet you, and we shouldn't waste it."

"Too true," he said.

The girls stayed for a bit longer. I stretched out on a little couch in the corner, letting Corbin lie on his tummy on top of me. He fell back to sleep while we were there, his tiny eyes flittering closed.

Jordan sat down next to me when they had all left, stroking the back of our son's head.

"Sorry," he apologized, a smile reaching his eyes. "They wouldn't stop asking questions."

"I feel bad now. I ruined their visit," I said. "They were probably looking forward to this ever since they heard the album was coming out. And everything kept getting pushed back and back…What's the album even called, anyway?"

"I never told you?" he asked, stilling his hand on Corbin's back. He smiled and kissed me softly.

"It's called Typical Mutant."

**Sooo…**

**I'd just like to say thank you to everyone. When I started this I had no idea of how it would end, but I personally think I tied it off nicely.**

**Everyone who reviewed, favorited, subscribed…anything. You really don't know how much you made a difference to me. Seriously, every time I get a review I have a mini heart attack. :D It's funny…you'd think I'd have gotten used to it by now.**

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**And thank you to everyone again. Love to all.**

**-TheCatWithTheHat**


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